#he'd be saving his REAL parent too

[cherrymoonvol6]

ok nvm i'll elaborate right now

i think one of the many weird choices in the finale was to make belos possess raine out of all people. one, because it really comes out of the blue. when has belos ever shown any interest of raine? like, i'm sure he must be aware of raine's record of plotting against the establishment, but he never deals with them himself. instead he sends a plethora of other people to do it for him (darius, eberwolf, kikimora, terra). if anything, it is terra that has a bone to pick with them. and in a parallel work where raine got more to do, i believe terra and raine's dynamic would've been something really interesting to explore. kinda like the relationship between atreus and odin in GOW ragnarok, like this "okay i know you hate me and all that i stand for, but i see potential in you so i'll take you under my wing and prove to you that i am worth of your time and loyalty" kinda thing, which is a banger dynamic btw.

but the second part is that there are two way more attractive options. the first one, immediately on demand, is darius. ofc it would take some canon time of developing that dynamic between belos and darius (it pains me that it doesn't exist), but it would make sense that belos would keep a close eye on darius. after all, he was mentored and was a good friend of the previous golden guard, and it's implied in various scenes (mostly ASIAS) that he knows enough about hunter's "ancestors" to praise him when he doesn't follow orders, and ultimately play the long-con to betray belos. he may even be aware in some sense of belos killing the previous golden guard, or even the existence of the grimwalkers. in that case, it would make sense that belos would have built some resentment towards him that ultimately shows in the choice to possess, corrupt and kill his puppeteer-ed body. but then, there's an even better option here, and a character that belos has hide a long-time resentment against: lilith.

look, if belos remembers luz from all those years ago, then he abso-fucking-lutely remembers lilith as well. and in a sense you can interpret the actions in canon as him trying to exert his personal vendetta against her: keep her close in the emperor's coven, trying to get her sister to join and get branded with a sigil with the promise that he'll cure her from her curse, all this while knowing that she would eventually betray him and join luz's side. we know belos kept her close for a reason and he knows the extent of her abilities, her history and relationship with eda, and her weaknesses as well. belos possessing lilith, then, would not only be the definitive "fuck you" to her, but could've also been an effective way to provoke eda emotionally and lead her to abandon her hideout to confront him. and honestly, from the way belos acts in that scene in FTF, his reaction to finding the best candidate to possess would make so much more sense if it was lilith and not raine.

but like, aren't lilith and raine just... insanely similar characters in the show's narrative? both are figures of eda's past, who loved each other sincerely back in simpler times, and through plot-related actions (raine's reason is much better narratively though, IMO) abandoned eda and joined the opposing side, climbing the ranks through their powerful abilities until becoming important figures in the coven circle. trying to think about the things i'd change in canon to make raeda a better couple involve making them go through similar plot beats that eda and lilith have gone through: an emotional, powerful moment where raine has to choose between their position of power and eda's wellbeing, actual tension between them (resentment and guilt from eda's side, frustration and confusion from raine's side), situations where they are forced to colaborate and their chemistry can still come through but still their dynamic is permeated by those lingering wounds... like, all of those things are stuff that already happened in canon, between eda and lilith. there's even that moment in king's tide where eda has the same somber moment with raine and lilith before executing their sabotage:

to me, it event seems like lilith got a lot of attention and development with eda in S1 and early S2 and then her character got sidelined when raine started to appear, and simultaneously: how raine's backstory and conflict of interest with eda are pretty much an afterthought but they still get to be a key player in the plot through late S2 and S3. i'm really sorry that economic character construction has to work this way, but that's how it is: you don't get to give eda a sister and a significant other and then make those two characters the same one. you have to commit to just one and integrate all aspects onto them.

[rcmclachlan]

from the micro story word list: 19 (sea change) or 46 (shimmer)!

"It never stops being weird seeing fake snow on people's roofs," Buck says, eyeing the house across the street. It's the epitome of everything he hates about Christmas now: the snow blankets are stapled in weird places, the LED lights are too bright and their shimmer makes the house look like a Swedish nightclub, and the 14-foot inflatable Grinch is just begging for someone with an LAFD-issued multitool to go over and accidentally slash it ten times.

Next to him, Tommy takes a thoughtful sip of his beer—salt and lemon gose, because he's a Batman villain—and murmurs, "You were lucky to have the real thing growing up. I always wanted a real white Christmas."

Tommy's voice is still clogged with tears. It sounds like there are river rocks in his throat.

"You wouldn't say that if you had to shovel four feet of lake effect snow out of your driveway while everyone else was opening presents," Buck grumbles, draining the rest of his ginger ale in one go, then drops his cheek to Tommy's shoulder with a sigh.

Wordlessly, Tommy wraps an arm around him and snugs him in close.

It's been almost an hour since Buck showed up on Tommy's doorstep with eight pounds of homemade fruitcake and goaded Tommy into a shouting match on his front lawn, which his neighbors must have loved, especially at 10:45 on Christmas Eve. He knows Tommy was absolutely mortified, but not enough to take the fight inside, which means that when Buck looks back on tonight, the only thing he'll remember—other than Tommy screaming "Of course I'm in love with you, Evan! That's not the issue here!"—is the way that fucking inflatable Grinch lit Tommy's tear-stained face up in the most hideous neon green color ever invented.

Buck closes his eyes and stretches out his legs. They clear all three of the little stairs leading up to Tommy's platform porch and his heels land on one of the flagstone steppers built into the pathway. Tommy had laid the walk-up the first year he moved in and was still so proud of it; he smirked at the stones sometimes, like he'd bested them, like they'd lost some fight that Buck would've given anything to have watched.

He wishes he'd remembered the flagstones before he asked Tommy to move in; it might've saved him a lot of grief and oven cleaner.

"Worth it, though," Tommy says. "Someday I'll see snow on Christmas."

Buck already knows he's going to regret opening his mouth, but he can't stop it. "M-Maybe next year? Before climate change turns Hershey into the new Tampa?"

For a horrible, endless moment, Tommy says nothing. He just drinks his beer and strokes a thumb over Buck's arm. Meanwhile, Buck's ready to rip his own skin off and run screaming into the night. They already laid it all out on the line—Tommy pacing a new pathway in the lawn, Buck standing on the biggest flagstone stepper like he was playing a one-man game of The Floor Is Lava, both of them shouting over each other to be heard—and if Tommy's going to stage a retreat now, if he's going to go back on his promise to fight through the fear and try, Buck's going to start ripping up the flagstones.

Then Tommy presses a long, hard kiss to Buck's hair. "We're not staying with your parents."

Shakily with relief, Buck lifts his head and slots their lips together, slipping his tongue in because he can. The inside of Tommy's mouth tastes like vomit. He's going to dash the rest of that bullshit beer on the flagstones as soon as he sees an opening.

"I wouldn't do that to my worst enemy." He pulls back just enough so he can watch exasperation try to chase the smitten expression off Tommy's face when he follows that up with, "never mind someone I'm planning to baby trap within the next five years."

They end up rutting against each other right there on Tommy's porch in full view of neighborhood, and he hopes the Grinch tells all the Whos down in Whoville how Buck's heart and dick grew three sizes that day.

[futureplayboibunnie]

Heartless Pt.2

Mafia Boss! Miguel O’Hara x fem! reader

You and Miguel are married to each other…and it wasn’t because of love.

I heart slowburn x

You idled on where you could go for your honeymoon. At least Miguel gave you the twisted liberty of choosing where you could go, you didn't even care enough to want to go to nice places anymore. Why was he trying to drag this out with a honeymoon? Neither of you wanted it, yet Miguel always valued whatever his Consigliere had to say, you weren't going to take one of your few chances to argue with him over something so minuscule, you were saving your rage and confusion for the things that would matter in the future. Maybe somewhere warm, maybe Italy or France or something. You wondered what Mexico would be like since Miguel is half Mexican, you wondered if a part of his family were settled there too- you had to admit, you were curious if the apple fell far from the tree. You immediately dismissed this misplaced curiosity, you didn"t know Miguel well enough yet and he would probably have your head on a spike if you even mentioned it. Miguel's brother Gabriel came into the penthouse to pick up a few things and you told him that you wanted to go to Italy, Gabriel said he'd pass that along to Miguel's pilot.

It was getting dark out and Miguel said you'd fly out tonight but he still wasn't back. You hadn't seen Miguel since breakfast, you probably ruffled his feathers just by challenging him minutely. All you did today was get ready, did up your hair, splashed on some makeup, wear one of the dresses he gave you, and sat around. You were bored out of your mind, if this was what married life would be like, you would be very irritable and uncooperative indeed. You couldn't back out now, being bored was better than being dead.

You took this eventless time to wander around this penthouse, one of his capos told you he owned many but this was one of the nicer ones, it was quiet, serene. You spent this day with one of Miguel's lackeys stationed outside of the door and Little Miss Fuck Me Eyes, AKA the maid, but you actively avoided her.

It was a nice place to live in, expensive and clean, but it felt...empty, even with people in and outs mavbe it was just the lack of Miguel that was making you feel this way. Your heels clicked around and your eyes squinted towards Miguels study.

Should you...? You'd probably get a shot to the kneecap at least for meddling with Miguel's private affairs. Your fingers wandered to the handle tentatively, your curiosity outweighed your fear. It would be a stupid mistake, yes, but if Miguel wasn't going to be here now, he definitely wouldn't be around later, so you had time to snoop and pretend you weren't there.You opened the door and your eyes shot around, he was such a neat freak, but there were bits of paper strewn on his desk. His desk was dark oak, it was almost black, his desk chair was real black leather too, and the warm ambient lights offered some sort of atmosphere where he could work. You strolled softly behind his desk to look at the loose papers. The first one was marriage papers, the official documents to your betrothal, the other one was the NDA you signed and the last one was...an entire background check on you. You sifted through the paper and there were pictures of you walking around on the streets of New York, you clutched onto it, your eyes narrowing at the words you were reading on the page.

It had your bank details.

Your clothing measurements.

Your GPA.

The earnings of your parent's company.

Every ex-boyfriend you've ever had

The shops you go to.

Your favourite food.

Quite literally everything about you.

He ran a background check on you and had someone follow you around before you got engaged. You frowned at the paper. You set it down and sighed, taking a minute to consolidate what you had just read. Raking a hand through your hair, you walked around his desk and stole a glance at the walls- you couldnt believe you missed what he hung up on the walls. You inched forward to inspect the Renaissance paintings that covered the room, he even had a real Caravaggio, Lord knows how much it cost. Then you shifted towards a picture that wasn't a painting. It was of Miguel and his brother when they were about teenagers, embracing each other for the camera after a presumably long day of playing sports or something like that- but what really stunted you was that he was smiling. You don't think you've ever seen Miguel smile at all.

What you didn’t realise was that Miguel was at home, trying to find you in the penthouse.

He knew he was an hour late but he was held up by some important consultations. His brow raised when out of the corner of his eye, he found the door to his study open which was very odd- it was always left closed, he should probably invest in a lock. His fingers opened it up sottly and there he found you, snooping around his study like a second-rate degenerate criminal, but when he found you, you were gawking at the art on his walls. You were absorbed in the paintings, in a trance akin to that of a dream, he almost didn't want to disturb you, You were wearing a slinky black strapless dress that hugged you just right, it stopped just below the knee, your skin was glowing in the ambient light, the heels on your feet making you look taller, but not as tall as him. He liked that he had the choice to power over you.

He had the sentiment he always had when he looked at you: you looked nice.

“Enjoying your prying?” A low irritated voice husked behind you, you turned around and yelped in surprise, your chest heaved at the shock of seeing him right here, in a place you had no business being in. You were dead already. You winced when your eyes met his, he seemed amused and annoyed all at once as you gaped at him at the doorway. He was so….so…clean and smart but his sleeves were rolled up and a few buttons were undone, he ditched his tie as you saw it in his hand. You swallowed thickly.

“I'm fine.”You seemed to muster up, unsure of what else to say, You had to admit, you were a little afraid but you would rather die than show that. You weren't sure what was going to fall out of his mouth, probably a verbal tongue-lashing. “Caravaggio? His paintings are rather dark.” You couldn't help but comment on it, of course, he would have refined taste, not just in anything business-related but also something as cultural as art.

“Isn't that what's fascinating about it?” Miguel grumbled, hoping you wouldn't hear him. It was a bright, keen and astute observation. You pursed your lips and stayed silent whilst crossing your arms. “I don't want you in here.” He clipped coldly as he finally made his way to approach you, he stole a look towards his desk and found that a few papers had been messed with. So you know about it now.

“I don't want you having your capos stalk me.” You bit back shrewdly with challenging eyes and Miguel raised an eyebrow a little, just enough for you to notice from the corner of your eye. Touche, dick.

“I have to know how I'm working with.” He said so emotionless, so flatly. Like everything was about business, like neither of you was actual people with feelings.

“Well, I don't know who I'm working with, so you're not fighting fair.” You inched forward to him as you let out with a strained breath. Unfortunately for him, your statement made him think.

“You won't have to and you're right, I don't fight fair.”

“I told Gabriel I want to go to Italy, by the way.” You pivoted the subject around and Miguel was internally pleased that you did.

“Portofino is nice this time of year.” He commented briskly, again, reverting back as if you were mere acquaintances discussing destination spots and the fucking weather. It still left a bitter taste in his mouth.

-

You packed quickly and Miguel's driver took all your bags as you were about to head out of the front door. You weren't really paying attention as Little Miss Fuck Me Eyes was all over Miguel again, talking to him about what needed to be done the time both of you came back. You didn't know why you didn't like her, it was probably because she was so obvious about it, she was practically drooling over your husband as if you weren't here.

He was your husband. Whether you liked it or not. When she glanced over at you, you raked a tuft of hair behind your ear, your wedding ring on full display as you did so, she definitely noticed it with the way her face settled into a scowl.

It didn't take long until you were both in the back seat of Miguel's lamp-black Porsche, completely silent to the drive to the airstrip that Miguel owned. You blinked out the window, watching the bright city lights blur into colors against the dark of night, well-mannered in your straight posture and crossed legs. Miguel took a second to contemplate your presence, he almost hated how well-behaved you were. A small fraction of him wanted to see you get messy, preferably under him. He shook the defiant out of his head with a scowl, staring out of his own window in response. There was this thick tension between you, this sustaining of a non-existent friendship, trying to keep the conversation simple and polite between you and the man you barely knew anything about.

He did his research but your parents did their own- they didn't let you get involved even though you were the one they were marrying off.

It felt like forever in the car, Miguel escorted you out like a...gentleman. Watching you sway so confidently up the stairs to his private jet. He had a full view of your ass in that dress he liked, he didn't know how to feel about it so he just breathed deeply instead. Miguel followed you up, stepping into the cool, crystalized plush leather of the plane. Jesus, the amount of money he spent on this is probably uncountable, just thinking about it made your head ache. Miguel watched as you were awed at the interior, he had a slight feeling of contempt at your reaction, like you didn't think your lifestyle would change into this. He makes this kind of money every minute. He was a very wealthy man. He could afford 20 of these if he wanted to. You needed to stop being so surprised and get used to shit like this.

You thought that Miguel would probably want to sit the furthest away from you, he was distant like that but a flash of confusion covered your face when you found him sitting next to you as he did up his seatbelt.

So close.

The proximity was...different. So different.

“Good evening, Mr. O'hara.” Before you knew it a soft sensual voice in front of you pierced through your absent-minded thoughts. Oh, of course. Another insanely beautiful woman worked for him. She took out a single glass and pulled out a 100-year-old Merlot. Her perfectly tailored uniform clung to her so tightly it was like glue. Of course, he had a gorgeous flight attendant. Of course. It shouldn't bother you, but for some reason it did. “How was your night...with your friend here?” She glanced to the side at you, finally realizing that it wasn't just her and Miguel in the plane, so they couldn't exactly fuck like dogs. Her face scrunched into a condescending smile, looking you up and down. It was obvious she was defeated but she concealed it behind bright eyes. Why did every single woman who worked for him want to fuck him? It was honestly galling.

“She's my wife.” Miguel said thickly, his voice held a certain gravitas, and his tone was clipped, almost like he was annoyed. The revelation seemed to get to Little Miss Fuck Me Eyes Number 2, her face dropped and it honestly made you feel better. “And yes, we had a good night, thank you. Please get another glass for us please.” It was almost like he was politely laying into her.

“Of course, Mr O'Hara.” She smiled softly as she whisked away to get another glass.

Miguel wanted to roll his eyes. Yeah, yeah baby, keep dreaming he wanted to say. He really didn't like it when people gawked at him, especially the women who worked for him. It wasn't him who employed all these objectively beautiful women, it was Gabriel and he was extremely biased. He doesn't fuck his staff. Well, he can't because he's a married man. Married to you. A beautiful woman who he just can't figure out. Even though, he had all the info he could get about you...the way you talked to him, and the way you acted around him was confusing. You were so puzzling and he wanted to uncover the secrets that you held, how messy you could actually get behind this complacent good girl agenda.

His eyes flickered to you and it was obvious you were lost in your own little world. He looked at your lap and noticed that you weren't wearing your seatbelt, before his mind could even check it, his hands reached out for your seatbelt.

You almost jumped into your seat when you realized where his hands were, he was leaning towards you, close enough where you could fully smell his deep and rich cologne. He did your seatbelt and without hesitation, tightened it harshly with one tug, you gasped softly at the unexpected action. Woah. His hands were...big.

“Make sure you don't die a day after your wedding day.” He muttered just above a whisper. You let out a gentle cough and resumed your 'respectable' position, pretending like it didn't affect you whatsoever.

Miguel wanted you to be affected by him, maybe so he could intimidate you. But after just a short few days together and many moments of where you should be intimidated by him- you weren't. It was as refreshing as it was unsettling. He could have you affected by him in another way…maybe sexual tension would do the trick in breaking this facade you had up... He contemplated the idea but then ultimately rejected it as quickly as it came.

He can't fraternize with you.

This was merely a business transaction.

He wanted this as clean as possible.

No feelings. No fucking up.

He would never get involved. He won't do it.

He’s done too much to stop now.

-

taglist (giggles): @deputy-videogamer @aisyakirmann

[unnameablethings]

Dead Ringer

Word count: 4k Rating: M for Mature Category: M?/F

Content Notes/Tags: Offscreen/implied domestic violence, non-graphic sex, misogyny, gun violence, horror themes.

Summary: Gemma is the isolated and miserable housewife of a man who hunts monsters. She doesn't know much about her husband's work, but she knows enough about her husband that when he comes home warm and smiling and kind, she knows that whoever or whatever this is - it's not him. -

There were things of John's which Gemma kept well out of. The long road trips he would vanish off on for weeks at a time with no notice, the hush-hush phone calls he would take out in the backyard late at night, pacing along the fence line, gesturing, body contorting in tension. The dreams he would wake up screaming from. The liquor cabinet. The trunk of his car, full of rock salt and guns and iron.

Gemma had become accustomed to the art of incuriosity. John went out to kill the things that went bump in the night, and he was doing it all to keep her and the baby safe. He told her that, sometimes, when he'd made her cry. Said it like a threat, like a bite, like it was supposed to mean she wasn't allowed to cry. It wasn't her job to know what he did out there, only to be patient with him when he came back colder and meaner and drunker every time.

Gemma was washing up at the kitchen sink when she heard the car pull into the driveway. There had been a time in their marriage when she would have run to the door to greet him, to kiss him hello, to run her hands over his arms and his body to check that he was safe, he was whole, he was well. Today, her stomach clenched. I thought he would be gone longer, she thought.

But the baby was sleeping, and the dishes weren't done. She kept her head down and scrubbed stubborn fragments of baked cheese off the bottom of the casserole dish and practiced a welcoming face to greet him with when he came in the door, tried to figure out a way to tell him to keep quiet without him taking it wrong.

The keys rattled in the lock. The door opened. Not with a great burst of force, but something slower and wearier. Gemma turned to him and smiled, a practiced curve that she worked to make reach her eyes. When John came in, he had his bag slung over his shoulder in the same way he always did, but he paused in the doorway and looked at her for a moment in a way he hadn't since they got married. He smiled, warm and tired, and said, "I've really missed you, Gem."

It hurt her in a way she hadn't expected. She hadn't missed him at all - she was a horrible wife - he really did love her - she couldn't believe she'd ever thought I wish I knew how to leave him. (She had seen the guns in the trunk. She had heard the ragged desperation when he said he'd kill anything at all in the world that wanted to take her away from him. Her parents had been killed by the same vampire he'd saved her from, and then he'd taken her a thousand miles away to put her alone in a town where she didn't know anyone.)

"I missed you too, baby," she said, and her voice shook. The tears in her eyes must have been taken as tears of love or sincerity, because he came to her and cupped her cheek and leaned in. She braced for his mouth, rough and possessive on hers. The kiss landed warm and dry and gentle on the center of her forehead.

"God, I'm starving," John said, and turned to look in the fridge. Gemma's stomach clenched again, waiting. She'd made a big batch of baked ziti for her to eat all week, but that wasn't the sort of thing John liked when he came back from a trip. He wanted meat and potatoes, a real solid stick-to-your-bones sort of meal.

"There's nothing made up," Gemma said, quickly. "Just pasta - I'm so sorry, I thought you'd be gone another couple of days. I can make something for you real quick, here, let me just-"

"That's alright, sweetheart," John said, putting out a steadying hand. "I've got it." And he got out the eggs and the tail end of the cheese block and the spices and half an onion and made himself an omelet. Every movement was slow and careful, like he was having to think about where his hands would end up. He must be real tired. He seemed a lot better after he'd devoured the whole mess with a healthy dash of hot sauce, more animated, but the whole time quiet and civil. He smiled at her again when she took the dish to wash, and thanked her.

"I could sleep for a week," he said, and went upstairs and unpacked his own bag and showered and put himself to bed. Gemma stayed downstairs for a while, lingering over the dishes, wiping down the stove. When she opened the fridge, she stared at the line of cold bottles of beer she kept ready for him. None were missing.

This wasn't John.

Obviously.

Something had stolen his face and his voice and was living in her house where the baby was and sleeping in her bed and she was going to have to go upstairs and lie down next to it.

It didn't even know how to be John so it probably didn't even know she had noticed anything was wrong.

It ate an omelet, she thought, staring at the drying dishes. It's not going to eat the baby. If she just played along, she could probably keep herself and the baby safe until the real John got back, or - or until she could figure out what else to do.

She went upstairs and got ready for bed, quietly, trying not to wake up the sleeping impostor. Then, slowly, she got into bed beside it, and lay awake in silence, listening to it breathe. It didn't even snore like John had, just breathed, long and slow and even. Its body was relaxed next to hers, loose and warm.

At some point she must have fallen asleep, because she woke up to John missing from beside her, and the sound of the baby crying. The room was dark, disorienting. Her heart jumped hard in her chest, adrenaline jolting her out of bed before she remembered that it wasn't even John. She went for the baby's room without a plan or a thought, just the terror-fueled desire to stop it from doing whatever it was planning to do.

The door to the nursery was open. The impostor stood inside it over the crib, holding the baby. It spoke low and quiet in John's voice. "Shhh, Danny-boy, I know you're hungry," it said. "Hush now, don't wake your mama, she didn't sleep well. Let's go see if we can rustle up a bottle, alright, baby?"

"John, give me Danny," Gemma said. Her voice shook. Danny twisted in the impostor's arms when he heard her, crying, his arms outstretched.

The impostor handed him over. His smile was apologetic. "I thought I'd let you sleep in a bit. Poor little guy won't settle for anything but his mama."

The statement made her cold, for a moment, but there was no rage behind it, no bitterness. It wasn't John. "He loves his daddy, he just knows who can give him his breakfast," Gemma said, taking Danny into her arms. Danny's crying redoubled as soon as he was safe in her arms, his little wet face turned to press into her shirt and ooze on her, mouth gumming at her ravenously. She turned away from the impostor before she pulled her shirt up to let Danny latch onto her breast. This wasn't her husband, and it was not for him to see. "You can go back to bed."

"You sure?" the impostor asked. "There any bottles made up for if he needs em, later?"

Gemma shook her head. "Really, it's alright, you had a long drive," she said, keeping her head down.

"Alright," the impostor said, after a moment, and pressed a kiss to the nape of her neck that made all the skin on her back crawl.

As soon as the door shut behind the impostor, she took an enormous, shaky breath. She did not cry. She knew a lot of ways not to cry, now. She stared dry-eyed at the floor as Danny nursed. He was safe. She would keep him safe. "It's okay, baby," she whispered to Danny, over and over. "I've got you. You're going to be okay."

Somehow she got through the day, and the next day, and the next. She kissed back when the impostor kissed her good morning, and was horribly grateful he never pushed it beyond that. The kiss was bad enough. It felt like cheating on John at the same time as it was John. He'd be furious when he got back.

If he ever did come back. The longer the days went on, the less it felt like there was anyone coming to save her.

And with every day that went by, the impostor kept being… not particularly dangerous. It spoke calmly and kindly to her and to Danny, always. It went out and mowed the lawn. It took out the trash. It played with Danny. It did the laundry. It went to the grocery store for her, and when it came back from that it had stopped somewhere along the way and gotten her sunflowers.

When it handed her the sunflowers, she touched the petals with bewilderment. "These are my favorite," she said, and couldn't help but let her voice rise in a question at the end. John had gotten her roses before, when he had really fucked up and didn't know how to apologize. Roses and roses and roses, but never sunflowers.

"I know," said the impostor. "You wear that apron with the sunflower on the pocket all the time." Then, his voice changing, half concerned, half laughing, "Oh, honey, are you crying? Come here," and somehow she found herself collapsed into the impostor's arms, sobbing inconsolably. He didn't even smell like John. The impostor smelled like leather and laundry detergent and a little like sweat, but nothing at all like rust and stress and whiskey.

"I love them," she sobbed, and the impostor kissed the top of her head and murmured "I love you," into her hair. She didn't ask him where he had gotten the money. She'd never asked John about the money, either. It came from somewhere, and that was all that mattered.

The sunflowers went in a vase on the table, and she cooked impostor-John dinner that night from the groceries he'd bought. He liked protein - meat and eggs and cheese - the same way John had. Impostor-John also liked spicy food, though, and more salt than John had liked, and bitter-flavored things like brussels sprouts and asparagus which John wouldn't have even touched. Danny got a mushed-up brussels sprout to try at the table, and impostor-John laughed with real humor as Danny screwed up his little face at it and announced his immense displeasure and then hurled it onto the ground.

"You'll grow into it, kiddo," impostor-John reassured him, and bent down and wiped up the mess with a paper towel before Gemma could even get up.

By the time the sunflowers wilted, Gemma knew John was never coming back. The day she realized it, she took a long shower and used the sound of the water to cover up her crying. When the hot water ran out, she felt hollowed-out and worn through, but clean. Like her lungs had been full of tar for years and she'd only just remembered what it was like to breathe air. It wasn't John, and nothing would ever be the same, but she would survive this, the same way she'd survived everything else. And she and Danny would be alright. Maybe even safe.

When she came out, her husband was sitting on the bed with the lamp on. He wasn't even pretending to read a book, just waiting up for her. His expression was tired and gentle. Concerned, like maybe he'd heard her cry. The look shifted to surprise as Gemma let her towel drop and crawled into his lap.

"Oh, hello, gorgeous," he said, his hands coming to rest on her hips. There was the barest hesitation, an uncertainty. "You're sure?"

"The baby's asleep, we have time," she said, deliberately misunderstanding, and straddled him. The sharp intake of his breath relieved her of any worry that he didn't want her. This was for the best, then. This was good, this was right, this was how she could keep herself and the baby safe, and keep her husband close at hand and loving her.

It turned out that her husband was better at that than John had been too. Attentive and gentle. He touched the stretch marks on her belly and thighs and breasts with a tangible sense of awe, took clear joy in coaxing her to come. He closed his teeth harmlessly around the curve of her neck and shoulder as he made love to her, and she thought she could feel the points of them a little sharper than they should be.

She started calling the impostor Johnny after that, and her husband never asked why, just kissed her and answered with a ready "Yes, ma'am," whenever she started a sentence with "Johnny, will you please."

When he moved too quickly and she flinched, or when she apologized to him too much, or when he said something a little too like John might, he was careful with her. Apologetic, gentle. She always told him it was alright. They never talked about it. He wasn't John, and John was never coming home, and as long as they never talked about it then everything would be alright, and they could live in this sunlit honeymoon forever.

Nothing good had ever lasted for Gemma, and everything broke eventually. She wished she felt surprised when this broke too. A big rusty pickup truck came roaring up to the house one night. Gemma stared at it through the window, and thought nothing. Only perfect blankness, a deer in too-bright headlights, the engine sound deafening. Loud enough that Johnny came running from the other room.

"Fuck," he said, when he saw the truck through the window. She'd rarely heard him swear, since he came to them. He did even that differently than John did. Crisp, even-toned. Almost matter-of-fact, though she could hear strain under it.

"It's Bill," Gemma said, distantly, in case Johnny didn't know. "Your friend you used to go on all those hunts with. You remember."

Johnny looked at her, and she looked back, and all of the things they didn't talk about stood between them, every prickly edge of them pressing, ready to draw blood. He said, heavily, "I remember."

Outside, the truck parked. The engine shut off, and the headlights. Gemma could see the silhouette of Bill coming up the driveway.

Gemma wiped sweating hands on her skirt and said, "I think you'd better go check on Danny. I'll get the door."

"I think you'd better go check on Danny," Johnny said, gently and firmly. "And don't come back out until I tell you."

Bill knocked. Gemma went numbly to answer it.

Johnny said, very quietly, "Baby, you don't want to see this."

Gemma ignored him and unlocked the door and opened it.

"Bill?" she asked, and the confusion was real. It was alright he could tell she was scared of him. She'd always been scared of him. "John didn't say you were coming!"

"Is he here?" Bill demanded, incredulously, and then his eyes rose and he saw Johnny standing behind her. "Boy, why the hell haven't you been answering my calls?" he demanded, and shouldered his way past Gemma as Gemma melted out of the way. "I thought you were dead."

"After the shit you fucking pulled on me?" Johnny said, and it was John's voice, thick with rage and ugly violence. Gemma's blood froze in her veins, her heart hammering. "You just ditched me with that fucking thing. You wouldn't have thought I was dead if you'd fuckin' stuck around to help me finish the job. The drive home was hell after."

"Oh, so you decided to be a petty little bitch about it?" Bill snarled right back, and came crowding right up into Johnny's space.

Bill reeked like John always had, cigarettes and booze and rust. It was too familiar, too close. Bill and John had duked it out in the living room before, loud and ugly and terrifying. Come to blows, staggered off both bleeding and swearing up a blue streak, and then she would catch them later, talking like the closest of old friends, shoulders pressed together, not looking at each other.

"I decided to spend a few months getting my fuckin' head on straight," Johnny said, and shoved Bill back, hard. "I've got a wife and a fucking baby now, I can't be running off with you all the time to take potshots at ghosts. I'm done. I'm not fucking doing this anymore."

Gemma watched that hurt Bill. Saw the way it cut him open, like maybe he would have preferred if John was dead. "Bullshit," Bill spat. "Bullshit! You fucking love hunting. You've been married years, and what, it's suddenly a fucking problem for you? You can get cunt fucking anywhere. You'd rather stay home and play house with fucking Gemma than come out and save lives?"

Johnny punched him in the mouth. It sent Bill staggering back, blood on his lips, and Gemma shrieked, startled. "Don't you ever," he said, and his voice was low and furious. "Don't you fucking dare talk about my wife like that. I'll put a bullet through your fucking head. Keep her name out of your filthy fucking mouth, you worthless son of a bitch. We're done, you hear me? I don't ever want to see you around here again."

Bill touched his mouth, looked at the blood on his fingers. Then he reached inside his coat and Gemma saw the flash of metal as he pulled out a knife. She gasped, and Johnny said, dangerously, "The hell you planning to do with that, Bill?"

"It's silver, John," Bill said. "You're not acting like yourself. And I'll forgive you for it - I'll fucking leave you and your wife alone," His voice came out wrong, strained and cracking. "But do me a favor and prove to me you really are him."

Gemma's stomach dropped. Johnny stood very still, looking at Bill and at the knife. The air was thick and airless.

"I would have noticed if he wasn't my husband," Gemma said, voice wavering. "You're being ridiculous, Bill."

"Yeah, well, you don't know him like I know him," Bill said. His voice had some awful, heavy triumph in it. "That's an awful lot of hesitation, John."

Johnny sighed, a long, low, rattling breath. "Give me the fucking knife," he said, and held his hand out for it. Time seemed to slow. Gemma didn't know what happened to the sort of thing that Johnny was when he touched silver, but Bill would know, and then he would kill Johnny right here in the living room, and there would never be sunflowers in that vase on the table again.

Gemma turned and hurried out of the room. Behind her, she heard voices rise again, heard the gasp of pain, heard a great crash. Gemma ignored it the best she could as she keyed in the code to the gun safe and got out the shotgun. John had taught her how to shoot, back before they were married, so she could keep herself and Danny safe while he was gone. She checked to make sure the gun was loaded. It was.

There was a sheet of glass between her and the world. Somewhere underneath it all there was sick terror, but her hands were steady on the gun grip.

It was the way she'd felt when her parents died, when John had pressed an iron cross into her hands and told her not to let it go no matter what he or anyone else told her. He'd had to pry it from her hands at the end of the night while she screamed. Tried to fight him. Lost. Cried about it, even when he told her he'd killed them all.

John wasn't here anymore. She cocked the shotgun and went back into the living room.

The coffee table was lying on its side. Blood was splattered across the ground. Bill was sitting upright, straddling Johnny's body. He had the knife in both hands, and Johnny's hands were locked around his wrists, preventing him from stabbing down. His arms were shaking. Bill's shirt was soaked in blood, torn where a knife must have gone through.

Beneath Bill, Gemma's husband didn't look much like John at all anymore. Didn't look much like a person at all. He was bleeding too, his hands around Bill's wrists blistered and burning. Her gorge rose. She couldn't stop staring at him, at Bill, at the blood.

Bill's eyes darted sideways, the whites of them showing, a panicked animal. "Fuck, girl, what are you waiting for, shoot it," he said.

Gemma raised the shotgun and fired.

The noise felt like the house coming down. Armageddon. It made her ears ring, made the startled outburst of the baby's crying from upstairs sound muffled in comparison. The force of it, unexpected, knocked her off balance, sent her stumbling back to collapse. She couldn't even scream as she saw what the blast had done at point blank range. It just came out as panicked, stuttering wheezing. She dropped the gun and pressed both her palms over her eyes and shook with adrenaline.

There was movement, then. The dragging, heavy sound of someone hauling himself to his feet, staggering over to her. Strong arms came around her to hold her, and her mouth opened and she wailed like Danny was wailing. "We're alright, baby girl, we're alright," Johnny said, tired and heavy. She could feel blood soaking through her shirt where he was holding her.

"I killed him," Gemma sobbed.

"You did," Johnny said, after a moment.

"You killed him," Gemma said, and meant someone else entirely.

The pause that time was longer, heavier. "I did," Johnny said.

"Why?" She meant why'd you kill him, though she could guess. She meant why be my husband, and couldn't guess at all.

Maybe being the thing that Johnny was meant he understood people better than John had. Johnny held her tighter and kissed the top of her head and said, "Didn't like how he treated his wife." It was enough.

Gemma laughed, horrible and wet and shocking herself. Maybe someday she'd ask out loud. Maybe someday he'd tell her. "Are you okay?"

"I'll be alright," Johnny said. "I don't go down easy. You go upstairs and shower and see to the baby, I'll clean up down here. Alright?"

"Alright," Gemma said, and meant it. In a moment she would go upstairs and clean herself up and soothe the frightened baby, and in a while maybe Johnny would come upstairs and shower himself and bandage up his wounds and then crawl into bed next to her. All of the nastiness down here would be gone, because Johnny would have cleaned it up for her. They'd maybe end up having to replace the carpet, but then they would just be living here happily in the house that John had bought for her.

"We should move," she said.

If it caught Johnny off guard, he didn't say so. "We'll move, then," he said. "I love you."

"I know," Gemma said, and turned and kissed him. "I love you too," she said, and went upstairs. (Resurrecting my ANCIENT fucking pinglist. from SIX YEARS AGO. I GUESS. I don't know if any of you even still exist but hey if you're alive and liked me SIX YEARS AGO. maybe you will like this. @trishaloach @toastyhat @acefruitloop @skye07 @m1sosazai @yoyoendlessstring @blue-tomatoes @catsfeminismandatla @lady-redshield-writes @alhena09 @emanonnosrep @je11yfish-queen @gingerly-writing @dramaticvoiceover @writingmyselfintoanearlygrave @authorisada @reciclingbin-blog @lushprocrastinatrix @timeenoughforamasterpiece @tedrakitty @haphazardlyparked @kiwisoap

@silver56 @pacifiedperoxide @kooncat @severe-fangirl-syndrome @startledserpent @dhawandyke @50-shaeds-of-fae @stritt @dorianelle @linariuswrites, @somber-fae)

[shelbgrey]

Hi, could I request more about "Being Carlisle and Esme's youngest daughter HCs:" and we have the Volturi wrap around our finger, please, thank you, and love it.

You put it, the Reader doesn't get along with Bella. I was hoping you could tell us more about that relationship. And I personally would love it if the Volturi knew that we're there since Carlisle and Esme got custody of us. They are "Cousins [ Demetri, Felix, Alec, Janeand Heidi,] Anutes and Uncles [ Uncle Aro, Caius and Marcus] to us". When Alice goes and saves Edward dumbass. We're there to save Edward, but we're also happy to see them. When Demetri and Felix came, we called them Cousin Dem and Fe while smiling. We hug Jane, holding hands with her. The Cullens knew about what we call them. We really don't care what happens with Bella, but we do care about our brother and sister. Personally, I got the feeling we don't really care if Bella lives or dies

Thank you so much 💓

P.S. feel free to message me if you need anything clarification on this

Being the daughter of carlisle and the Volturi loving you:

So I usually don't write for the Volturi so bear with me.

🩷MasterList 🩷twilight List

So you want to know more about Bella and y/n's relationship...

So, I want to compare how Edward thinks and how Bella thinks to show the two girls relationship.

I think when Bella is finally introduced to the family she's quite jelouse of Edward's relationship with you, there's no real incureties to it, she just doesn't want girls hanging around Edward.

Bella also thinks your plan and shy, there's off hand comments on how she's discribes you, Edward on the other hand discribes you as happy, humorous, and so beautiful.

You guys are always throwing harmful comments to each other and Bella usually takes it too far.

You also hate how she's treats her father. She always gets mad and says it's none of your business and you have no idea what you were talking about.

“my parents chose me, yours just got stuck with you”

Carlisle and Esme would put a stop to it, there's been many times Carlisle and Charlie have had talks about Bella's bullying.

Of course you're parents know your not a saint in theses situation, but Bella is usually the one to start it.

“if someone pushes you, you push back” Emmett always says, which is why your never scared to decened yourself.

And since your the youngest, your basically the center of the Cullens universe, but then Bella comes along and puts your family in danger, that's your problem.

You also have a problem with Edward putting everything aside no matter what for her, your happy he finally has a girlfriend but there should be boundaries.

You especially started hating her when Edward decided to go to the Vulturi after Bella's supposed death.

You knew about the Vulturi and you became friends with them in fact, your uncle Marcus(yes, you heard me right) says your the glue that holds you all together.

After Aro found out about a human joining Cullen Coven, he showed up to see if it was true, Aro didn't really have a plan for what he was gonna do, but when he met you he saw no harm. He was in aw at the sight of the small child.

The deal was that you could stay human with the family as long as you wanted, you just had to keep the secret of the Vampires.

Honestly you see Aro as the creepy uncle, you'd never say that to his face and he'll never found out because he refuses to read your mind.

“but, Dad he creeps me out! None of the others do”

Dispite you thinking he's creepy, he'd never hurt you.

At first Cauis wanted nothing to do with you and didn't agree with Aro's decision, but the more the family interacted with the Vulturi the more he grew a soft spot for you.

Marcus is more of a grandpa than an uncle if were being honest, he's a lot older than the others and he's always been so gentle and kind towrds you.

He gives you advice and is there if you need to talk.

I don't know much about Heidi, but I figure she'd absolutely love you and is always spoiling you.

Demetri is like a big brother/cousin and you kinda have a love/hate relationship. You guys tease each other and sometimes it'll get mean, but trust me he'd kill anyone who harms you.

Your probably closest to Jane and Alec, they're both closer to your age and you three just hit it off immediately. You hate hearing about they're tragic back stories but they always tell you it's not your fault and you make they're lives better.

Then Edward left for Italy to go and execute himself 🙄

You were so made at Bella for putting Edward in this headspace and situation, especially after you found out she's was perfectly fine.

But, anyway Alice was getting ready to take Bella to Italy and you wanted to Tag along. Not because you were there to support Bella, but because you wanted to see the extented family.

Ya know... Going to Italy to beat Felix and Demetir at Mario cart again...

What you didn't want to do is see Bella getting all dramatic and telling your Uncle Aro to kill her instead of Edward.

You rolled your eyes and came up to hug Jane as she threatened to use her gift on her, she was only using like 5% of it on Edward just for ✨dramatic effect✨ . “alright Jay, they've learned their lessons”

Jane chuckled and stopped using her powers on Edward, wasn't too painful for him.

“Aw, I was having fun” Felix sighed as you ran up to him and hugged him.

Cauis rolled his eyes trying to hide his smile as Bella looked completely confused. “What just happened?”

“nothing... Just you being dramatic for no reason, they're on our side bone head, You think they'd actually hurt Eddie?”

You left Felix's arms and walked around the Castle. “by the way, where's Dem?”

He appeared and hugged you while Bella looked even more confused and kept asking unanswered questions. “aw, she's still alive”

You laughed and quickly shhed him.

“what? You think just because they're old school and basically vampire royalty they're evil? you asked Bella, you were kinda pissed off she thought so low of them.

“yeah we never said we were gonna kill him and Alice never said that either” Aro said, clapping his heads together.

You then clicked your tough, with a sarcastic smile. “well, we send little miss. Main character home and me and Alice can stay here for the weekend, dad said we could.”

Jane hugged you excited for some girl time while Felix ran around the Castle making sure you had a comfy room to sleep in.

“do what ever you want Dem, killer or set her free, send her to the moon, have her for dinner, I don't really care”

Uncle Cauis laughed as bella started stuttering as Felix and Alec came back with arms full of dvds.

“wait, what?” Edward sighed. “they're kidding”

“we could watch a bunch of TV shows, we got Bones, and supernatural” Felix smiled.

“no Supernatural, they got the vampires all wrong” Alec said.

The two boys and you and Jane both just walked off talking about what you should watch without even a goodbye for Edward and Bella. “What about Moon Knight, dad finally got an account for Disney+. It's a really good marvel show”

“ooh, I heard Oscar Isaac is in it, he's so hot” Jane said, Felix and Alec groaned as you girls started thirsting over male actors.

“they're just gonna be horny for 40-something year old men the whole time” Alec sighed, heide slapped him and told him to be nice.

Bella scoffed and left with Edward after Alice smiled and ran after her sister and Jane.

“Lators Gators” you shouted to Edward.

[escelia]

DP x DC PROMPT/FIC

Gotham Portal

(If you get the notif for this post like 2 days ago, no you didn't! I wasn't done yet! You were imagining things!)

Where the story takes place in Gotham instead of Amity Park, the Fentons having moved before the construction and testing of the Ghost portal due to the high saturation of ectoplasm in Gotham. So, Danny's accident ALSO happens in Gotham, except he has no support system at all.

Enter the Bats stage left!

Danny couldn't believe he'd been so stupid. His parents had uprooted their whole life to move to Gotham. They said they'd need all the ambient ectoplasm there for when they built their portal. Jazz had been thrilled! After all, Arkham was a shining beacon of mentally ill people, and Jazz was like a psychology moth to a flame; it would be the perfect place for her internship after college.

His parents had wasted no time assembling the portal from their blueprints in the basement of the run-down apartment building they'd bought outright just on the edge of Crime Alley, complete with the Ops Center parked right on top. They'd gutted the place and completely redone it before they moved in. (Danny had no idea when they accomplished that. Maybe they'd been planning it for a while and only thought to tell their children two weeks before moving day.) He was genuinely surprised the local vigilantes hadn't stopped by yet to ask questions.

But anyway, back to how he was royally screwed! He'd just wanted a cool picture for Sam and Tucker now that he'd moved away. His parents weren't home (they'd gone back to the hardware store after their last test), Jazz had stayed after school to try and butter up her new teachers by running a study group, and he'd been alone. He'd even followed all the safety precautions his parents had told him about! He'd put on the hazmat suit and tried not to touch anything. But he'd tripped.

Through the whirling of green and the static buzzing in his ears, he remembered screaming, though he hadn't recognized it as his own. Every nerve in his body was on fire, and he just wanted it to stop. Stop, please stop, why won't someone save me, please!

He woke up to the smell of burning flesh, but he woke up. He was okay! Disoriented, a little disgusted by the smell and throat a little raw, but okay!

At least he'd thought so at first.

He'd begun to... change colors? And float, he floated sometimes, too. But the most irritating of all was that he would go through things. Forks and glasses slipping, quite literally, right through his fingers.

He hadn't told his parents. He'd been fine, after all. A little shaken up, but they'd been so excited he'd gotten the portal to work, who was he to put a damper on the mood when he was fine?

That brought him to now, staring at the mirror in the school bathroom in horror. He'd fought his first real ghost that morning around breakfast. He'd kept it together fairly well, in his opinion. Got through three whole classes before making an excuse to the teacher, slipping off into the blessedly empty restroom.

He'd been getting better and better at controlling his form, and he transformed in front of the mirror, taking stock of his appearance.

Odd colored hair: check.

Bright glowing eyes: check.

Floaty hair: check.

Could walk through walls, disappear, and fly: check.

He raised his finger to his pulse point and felt... nothing.

"I died," he whispered to himself in shock. "I... died," he repeated, this time in despair.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Damian Wayne was not usually one to keep tabs on his classmates. They weren't his friends, therefore he saw no point. However, the new kid, Daniel Fenton, had begun to act strange.

When Daniel Fenton enrolled in Gotham Academy it hadn't been anything special. He'd started the year a little last due to his family moving, but families moved for all sorts of reasons. He hadn't tried to immediately make friends with Damian like so many others had, much to his relief. But he hadn't tried to make friends with anyone else, either. Maybe he liked to be alone? It really wasn't his business.

But then the boy started getting skittish and clumsy. Clumsier than he had been when he started school. He'd developed a miniscule tremor in his left hand, so he'd probably sustained an injury. He began dropping things in Chemistry. So often, in fact, that he'd been banned from doing practical labs and was instead assigned extra book work.

If Damian had been anyone else, if he hadn't been raised by assassins or had his night work as Robin, he wouldn't have noticed. He wouldn't have followed Fenton to the bathroom under the guise of needing to see the school nurse for a headache. Perhaps if he were anyone else, Fenton might have noticed him following.

There was an alarming flash of light as Damian peered carefully around the corner. Fenton had changed forms. Something had happened to him.

"I died," he heard him say. Damian thought he was being dramatic until he watched him raise his fingers to his pulse point. His glowing eyes dilated in panic, and he repeated himself. He watched as his classmate, looking fragile and lost, curled in on himself floating in the air, and sobbed.

Damian didn't confront him that day. He watched, waited, and researched. He found the research of Dr's Fenton on ghosts and ectoplasm, most of which he was skeptical of up until actual ghosts started to torment them during patrols.

Ghosts were real, it appeared.

He also concluded that their findings on ectoplasmic entities being non-sentient and inherently malevolent was incorrect, having met the ghost of a little girl caught up in a rouge attack that killed her and her family.

Damian watched Daniel Fenton for about a week while he ditched class in a poorly hidden effort to fight and contain the ghosts that he and his family were having such a hard time dealing with. His father was even nearly considering contacting John Constantine, which was never his ideal solution. Damian had been rolling an idea around in his head for a while and he decided now would be the time to bring it up.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dinner at the manor was more of a full table than Damian had expected. Not everyone was there, Jason's relationship with them was still a bit strained, so he was not in attendance, and neither was Stephanie. But Duke was home, and Dick was actually there early for patrol later. Tim was there, and so was Cass, so almost everyone.

"Ahem," he cleared his throat politely. "Father, I wish to recruit a new member."

The chatter around the room came to a halt, the clatter of silverware ceasing.

"What exactly do you mean, chum?" Bruce asked carefully.

"I have a classmate I believe would be a valuable asset in light of our trouble with ghosts recently. However, he has no training or support, so I'm asking for your assistance."

"Did... demon brat make a friend?" Tim asked bewildered and a little bit terrified.

"Tt. No, I've never even spoken to him." Damian rolled his eyes. "My classmate, Daniel Fenton, transferred to Gotham Academy about a month ago and started acting strange soon after. He came to school with a tremor and a Lichtenberg figure you can just barely see starting on his left hand and traveling up his arm. I believed he'd been in an accident, and my suspicions were proven when I saw him use meta abilities to ditch class and fight a ghost in the courtyard of the school. From my observations, they are newly acquired, but he has decent instincts and an inclination toward heroism. I believe it would be safer for everyone involved if we approached him first."

"What?" Tim muttered. Dick was smiling gently at him, though, as if he were doing something he was proud of.

"Do his parents know?" Duke asked. Damian scoffed.

"I highly doubt it."

"Wait, Fenton as in the ectobiologists?" Bruce asked. The ex-assassin nodded.

"And considering their research is not reflected in our own interactions with ghosts thus far, I do not believe we should tell them."

"Not safe?" Cass signed. Her brother shook his head.

"The abilities I've observed resemble that of a ghost. He even has an alternate ghostly form."

The implication that they'd be endangering him hung heavy in the air. They'd all seen the Fentons' research. It mostly consisted of theoretical analysis and blatant biases with a long list of proposed experiments they'd run if they ever caught one. They'd all agreed that the Fenton ghost hunters were not a viable option for their ghost problem, especially after seeing how they drove, which in itself nearly put them on the Bat's rogue list.

"We've been meaning to investigate the Fentons properly anyways," Dick pointed out.

Bruce attempted to massage a headache out of his temples. The stuff his kids stumbled into, really. But Damian was right. If his classmate was a new meta with no support, it was only a matter of time before the rogues zeroed in on him, and since his family lived there, he couldn't tell the kid to leave.

"I'm not saying yes just yet, but talk to him. Find out any more that you can."

"Of course, Father."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Danny finally felt like he was getting the hang of his ghost powers. He was pleasantly surprised, and also mildly horrified, that his parents' inventions actually worked on the ghosts he was now beginning to fight regularly. His favorite was by far the thermos, which did no ghost mutilating whatsoever.

He discovered he had a ghost sense and enhanced hearing and vision, which was cool and all, but now he could hear all the shitty things his classmates said about him behind his back. Which, rude! He didn't even talk to them, what did they have to be shitty about?

He also noticed that one of them, Damian Wayne, had been watching him. From what Danny had heard, Damian was the richest kid in school, a Wayne. Son of billionaire Bruce Wayne, to be exact. And his attitude reflected that. His standoffish, holier than thou rich guy attitude made Dash and Paulina look like they lived below the poverty line. Apparently, he generally didn't talk to anyone at school unless it pertained to class, so Danny saw no point in introducing himself.

That made it extra weird that Damian was following him.

It was right after lunch when a hiccup had a cold breath tumbling from his lips. He raised his hand and asked his teacher if he could use the restroom. He made his way to the bathroom on the other side of the building this time, hoping it would be too out of the way for Damian to follow. But soft rustling of his classmate's school uniform gave him away, no matter how imperceptible his footsteps were.

When he entered the restroom, he made his way to the sink instead, splashing some cold water on his face as Damian walked in behind him loudly as if announcing his presence.

"I know what you've been doing," he said confidently, crossing his arms and standing in front of the door so Danny couldn't leave.

"Oh, hey! Damian, right? I'm in most of your classes, but I don't think I've ever introduced myself. I'm-"

"Daniel Fenton, I know. You've been fighting ghosts." Damian had to give him at least a little credit; he'd become a great actor over the last week. Though, that probably had a lot to do with the fact that he probably didn't feel safe at home anymore.

"My parents are ghost hunters, but I don't think shooting a ghost in the face with a lipstick laser then running for my life counts as 'fighting ghosts'."

"Tt. You are lying."

"Dude, what are-?" Danny cut himself off when his words came with another misty breath. Crap! He'd taken too long!

The ghost of the day, an ugly, mutated, bird looking thing with claws at the ends of its wings and a full set of dangerous, pointed teeth, phased through the door behind Damian, poised to strike.

Without warning, Danny grabbed Damian's wrist and whipped him out of the way, throwing himself between the two. A green shield formed in front of him just as the bird slashed at them with one of its wings.

"Well, that's new," he said startled as the bird geared up for another attack.

Danny groaned at his miserable luck before throwing caution to the wind and transforming. He'd just have to force friendship upon one Damian Wayne in an attempt to keep him from telling anyone about his whole magical girl transformation. He tried to activate his shield again, but when nothing happened, he was flung across the room into the wall. God, this was embarrassing.

The next time the ghost tried to attack him, Damian yanked him aside in a dodge and bolted out of the bathroom with Danny in tow. He was dragged through the winding halls to one of the side exits of the school. In costume or not, Damian's priority was luring the ghost away from the other students.

"Hey, so uh, you won't say anything about this," he gestured wildly to himself, "will you?"

"Tt. Of course not, but I believe you have more important concerns at the moment."

“Right!” Danny patted at the sides of his hazmat suit. “Crap, I left my thermos in my locker!” He dodged another attack and retaliated with an ectoblast, trying to keep the ghost's attention off of Damian as much as possible.

"Your lunch? Really?" Damian shouted. Dang, Danny must have been doing a decent job if Damian had the spare time and attention to be exasperated with him.

"No! It's a containment device! Besides, ghosts are basically soup anyway!"

"Distract it," Damian instructed, "I'll retrieve the device." The boy took off. Danny had to wonder how he even knew where his locker was. The ghost tried to follow him, but Danny shot another blast at it.

"Hey ugly, auditioning to be one of Gotham's Birds? Sorry, but you don't really look the part." He had no idea if the creature could even understand him, but the way it turned to him and lunged again suggested it had done the trick. This time, his shield did work!

Danny could have cried tears of joy at finally having some consistency with it. The next few minutes of the fight felt like an eternity while he dodged and shot ectoblasts at it. The creature wasn't really that strong, and it didn't seem to have super dangerous abilities like some of the other ghosts he'd fought like Skulker or Technus. It ended up being a great opportunity to practice his new shield ability, actually. But he knew the longer he took, the more danger his classmates would be in.

The bird ghost slammed into his shield with a particularly vicious strike, slamming him into the ground and creating a small crater.

"Note to self, remember intangibility," Danny groaned.

In that moment he noticed a door opening on the school building. It was Damian! He was finally back with thermos in hand! Unfortunately, the other ghost noticed too.

"Oh no you don't!" Danny yelled, latching onto one of its feet as it tried to fly toward his classmate. He dug his fingers in hard and sunk into the ground partway to anchor himself.

"Big green button by the lid then the button immediately below it!"

Damian wasted no time popping the lid open and sucking the ghost into the device, the lid closing with a quiet pop. He had to admit, though the design was questionable, it was sturdy, light, and very clearly effective. He wondered if he could get away with sneaking off with this one to have drake examine later.

"That was some incredible timing, thanks." The ghostly form of his classmate floated over to him, taking the thermos from his hand. Damian did not pout.

"We should probably get out of here before the Fenton's show up." He could already hear the screech of tires and his dad's voice over the megaphone tearing through the air.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Don't worry honey, we'll catch that nasty ghost boy next time," Jack Fenton comforted his wife. True to form, the Fenton's had arrived to the scene late, and most of the damage to the school yard had been from their vehicle crashing into things upon their arrival. Parents had been called and classes ended for the day, which was how one Bruce Wayne found himself at Gotham Academy trying to help the teachers talk the two down from storming and searching the school.

His son was standing off to the side with one of his classmates. Dark hair, bright blue eyes, lanky frame; Bruce could have mistaken the child for one of his own, but looking between the hulking man in front of him and the kid standing next to Damian, the resemblance was obvious. That had to be Daniel Fenton, the meta his son had told him about. Which meant he'd been the one to deal with the ghost before anyone else had gotten there. The classmate Damian had suggested they recruit for his safety.

"Danno, did you see where that spook went? When I get my hands on him, I'll rip him apart molecule by molecule for even thinking of attacking your school!" Bruce saw Daniel's breath hitch with fear.

"Sorry, no. I was coming back from the bathroom when I saw him fighting another ghost through the window. I was scared so I hid," he lied, gripping his left wrist while he spoke.

Bruce was impressed. The boy's fear was real, and he used that to his advantage to really sell the lie to his parents. His heart ached for him. He couldn't imagine seeing any of his boys looking at him like that, with such fear and distrust.

"That's okay sweetie, we'll get him next time. We're just happy you're alright. Let's get you home," his mother comforted, though Bruce knew it wasn't very comforting at all.

"Yeah, we'll teach you to use the Fenton Bazooka," well that was horrifying, "that way next time you can just blast him!" Danny wanted literally anything else.

"Actually," Damian interrupted politely. "We were assigned a project in class earlier on the history of Gotham. As Daniel is relatively new to town, I offered to assist him with the assignment. Father, would it be acceptable for him to join us for dinner?"

Bruce would have been incredibly surprised his son was inviting someone over for dinner if he didn't see exactly what he was doing. Daniel wasn't safe at home. And he clearly wasn't comfortable with the way his parents spoke of the 'ghost boy'. If his defeated expression was anything to go by, it hadn't been the first time they'd said something like that, nor would it be the last.

"What do you think, Mr. and Mrs. Fenton? We'd love if Daniel could join us for dinner."

"Please, call us Maddie and Jack. That sounds wonderful Mr..."

"Wayne. Bruce Wayne, I'm Damian's father," he introduced. If the two recognized the name, they didn't show it. It worked out rather well in his favor.

"Mr. Wayne. If its not too much trouble, that would be wonderful. It's about time he made a new friend, he's been sulking since the move. Now, we have a ghost to catch!" Maddie planted a kiss on Danny's forehead, leaning her blaster on her shoulder as her and her husband made their way back to the homemade assault vehicle parked haphazardly on the lawn of the school.

"Be sure to call us if you plan on staying the night! We'll let Jazz know she doesn't have to worry about dinner for you! We love you, have fun sweetie!"

"Are they always like that?" Damian asked after the two had pulled away. How had those two even gotten their driver's license? It was truly abysmal, he dreaded the thought of anyone getting into a vehicle with them. And then there was the speed in which they'd dumped their son into their laps, even suggesting they'd be okay with him not coming home that night.

"They mean well, but yeah," Danny replied, heaving a sad and defeated sigh. "Thank you, by the way. For inviting me over, even if you didn't mean it. They can be a bit much."

"Clearly," Damian mused back.

Bruce watched the two interact and felt pride well up in his chest. Meeting the Fenton parents just once was enough to convince him that their son needed help, maybe even their daughter too. That Damian had taken the initiative to bring this to his attention, that he had stood up for Danny and offered his home as a sanctuary for him, made him so incredibly proud as a father. He wasn't as prickly with Danny the way he was with other people, even his own siblings. That was a very good thing indeed, considering it was looking more and more likely this would end with another adoption.

Maybe Clark was right, he did have an adoption problem.

[leighsartworks216]

The Calm After The Storm

Sylus x gn!Reader

I know it isn't Christmas anymore but the vibes persist in my notes app

Warnings: fluff, domestic fluff, silly, Christmas, alcohol, drinking, kissing, cuddling, some family drama

Word Count: 834

Main Masterlist

First Love and Deepspace Masterlist

Second Love and Deepspace Masterlist

AO3

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You scrub a hand down your face, as if it could wipe away all the stress and overwhelm from the last few days. Booking flights, packing bags, wrapping gifts, dealing with your parents' nagging and your extended family's... whole deal. You can't wait to go back home.

Sylus sighs as he settles down beside you. His arm immediately wraps around your shoulders, drawing you into his side where you belong.

He's been your rock through all of this. When you start to lose your head to the holiday season, he's there to reel you back in. It was a real catch 22, though. He could be there to block your family's questions and interrogations, but that only brought more questions to the surface.

How did you two meet? How long have you been together? When is he going to propose? Will we finally have some grandkids? Why isn't he with his family? How big is he? (Asked by your great grandmother, utterly shamelessly.) And on, and on, and on.

For all the headache it brought you, he didn't seem too phased by the excitement. With all the grace of a businessman, he deflects, redirects, and obfuscates just enough to satisfy their questions without giving them too much of a rope to tug on.

Now that you've finally got a moment to yourself - all your relatives gone, your parents off to bed - all you want to do is sit on the couch and come down from it all.

Sylus is quiet. You know it's for your sake, to give you all the (metaphorical) space you need. All the power is in your hands to start a conversation. All he does is hold you close, rub circles into your arm, and offer you the wine glass in his other hand.

You grin wryly as you accept it. It's fruity, sweet - definitely not to his tastes. "Is this the one my nana got you?"

"Mhm," he hums. "It's a nice gesture."

You chuckle. "She had no idea what to get you. I mentioned that you like to drink, but she's... Well, she tends to gift other people things she likes."

You settle deeper against him, cradling the glass to yourself as you lean your head against his shoulder. He presses a tender kiss to your head.

"Is it always that chaotic?"

"No." You tilt your head up to look at him. "It's usually a lot worse."

He chuckles lowly. "I'm glad they were on their best behavior for me, then." He brushes his nose against yours, drawing out the peace of the moment just a while longer. He's had to severely cut back on how affectionate he gets to be with you to avoid encouraging even more marriage and children questions; he really wants to savor this for as long as possible.

The lights of the Christmas tree in the living room dance across the planes of his face. Every now and then, the red catches on his iris. Or the gold does, and gives him a draconic look. He's beautiful. Ethereal. Your cousin took one look at him, at his arm lazily wrapped around your waist, and gaped in awe at you. The only reason she couldn't get a chance to get Sylus alone and try to steal him is because he was too insistent on staying by your side through it all, whispering teasing remarks in your ear and making sure you weren't about to have a panic attack.

It felt really good being able to put her in her place at dinner, when she purposefully vied for the seat beside Sylus's. He'd ignored her the whole time, save for a politely dismissive phrase or two. After she stole your boyfriend from you in 9th grade pulling the same stunts that she tried tonight, you had no sympathy for the teary-eyed pout she pulled on her way out the door.

You lean up that last little bit. He ducks his head down to ease the strain on your neck, meeting you in a honeyed kiss. Sweet, warm and unhurried. You taste like the wine, hints of the bitter alcoholic sting softened by the fruity sweetness clinging to your lips. This may be his new favorite wine, if only for the way it tastes on you.

You pull away slowly. He leaves a few chaste kisses on your lips, chasing after the lingering sweetness, before finally humming his satisfaction. As soon as you both get home, he's going to make up for all the lost time. For now, he tucks your head under his chin, holds you in front of the tree, and basks in his first Christmas spent with you.

"Merry Christmas, Sy."

"Merry Christmas, sweetheart." He can't wait to celebrate with you again next year, crazy family and all.

You take a slow sip of the wine, basking in the silence for all of one minute. “Sy?”

“Mhm?”

“We’re taking the jet back home. I can’t be sat sandwiched between two screaming babies again.”

---

Tag List:

@the-golden-jhope @huen1ngk41 @armycaratlover @sylusfluffymeow @cheesemachine44 @nyx2021 @angel-jupiter @thelittlebutton @pikachuzhc @pomegranatepip @cordidy @an-ever-angry-bi @thejysemongko

[shanastoryteller]

Merry Christmas!! Could I get the Untamed please?

a continuation of 1 2 3 4 5 6

Wei Ying misses his parents, of course, but he doesn't remember them that well. He remembers how they made him feel, and what his mother's robe looked like, and the sound of his father's laughter. But it's snatches, more dreams then memories.

He remembers being cold and alone and hungry and scared for those terrible days after they disappeared - died. He remembers Wei Cheng finding him and saving him and how he'd felt like his mother and father both, the warm heat of a powerful golden core that felt like his mother's and the strong arms and broad shoulder of his father.

He's his father's cousin, he thinks, and he remembers his father saying they didn't have any other family, but maybe they just had a following out, or are related by marriage, or something. Because Wei Cheng had found him and raised him and Wei Ying has been calling him Dad for years and it doesn't feel like a betrayal. His father is dead. His father and mother left him behind and went on a night hunt and something went wrong and then he was all alone.

And then Dad found him.

He teaches Wei Ying everything, even gets him a real cultivator's blade, and he drills and trains him into the ground but Wei Ying doesn't mind. He understands.

His parents died on a night hunt. Dad just wants to make sure that never happens to him. He wants the same thing, to make sure he doesn't lose Dad in the same way he lost his parents, so he has to get stronger faster. He has to be good enough that Dad will trust him enough to take him on night hunts too, so that he can watch his back.

In lots of ways, joining the Nie is a relief.

He likes traveling, and how relieved and happy people are when they show up to a town in trouble, but the Nie are a proper clan, and Sect Leader Nie seems fond of his dad.

Like. Really fond. It's sort of gross.

But that probably means that he won't let him die. And Nie Huaisang is awesome, both of the equally thrilled to have a friend their own age. Nie Mingjue is a grouch, but he's delt with worse, so he doesn't mind. Especially because Nie Huaisang takes his side on any argument with his brother.

[cenorii]

Headcanons about Oldsker

I drew him quite a lot, so I managed to form an opinion about him. Yes, officially Oldsker exists only in our heads, but that doesn't stop us from coming up with something about him. Who is he? Read here.

— Of course, my main hedcanon is his appearance:

— I think Oldsker is the perfect version of Wesker, the final stage of his personal evolution. It's not only the result of his personal growth, but also the result of Capcom's labors to make a complete and final version of the character that will include all the notes and previous games, creating a coherent image out of all the vast information there is about him.

— Having limited himself all his life, Wesker was able to go all out after the volcano. Now that he wasn't bound by the confines of Spencer's upbringing, nor held back by the fulfillment of his dreams, he felt free. Now he was like a child who had been told by his parents to "do whatever you want." Wesker, who had never used foul language before, might start doing it. Wesker, who previously didn't drink and despised bad habits, might try them. Long hair and a different clothing style? He's just getting started. He's free and will probe that feeling in absolutely everything. Acting like a silly joker on the street? Easy. Create the image of the urban lunatic around him as a disguise? Oh yes, he likes that. He's free and his name no longer constrains him, because he'll change it too.

— I think Wesker got tired of having the same hairstyle for 50 years, styling his hair every morning, and so on. And he's already 61. Feeling completely free, like a teenager craving self-expression, he will grow his hair out and not care about styling at all. The only thing he will do with his hair is wash it. He doesn't even need a blow dryer anymore, just a towel, because now he loves himself any way he can. And he no longer needs to be "perfect" to like himself.

— He hasn't gotten rid of the habit of wearing sunglasses, but he really needs it to fit in with society. His eyes still tend to glow with emotion, and basically have an unconventional look. It's unlikely that colored contact lenses can override something so unusual.

— He doesn't forget about Chris. For Chris, Wesker's "death" means a lot, thanks to this event Chris realized that his fight was worth the lives saved. But for Wesker, this event is also very important. He has revised absolutely his entire life, changing the way he approaches it.

— Chris is his obsession. Wesker admires him, hates him, loves him, despises him, loves him, and so it is every day… every day is his struggle with feelings he is not familiar with, but tries to understand. Wesker has become free of any restraints, but the walls that were erected around his feelings still stand. And that's why he's such a noob in feelings, he doesn't know what he's feeling or how to describe it. That's why his relationship with Chris is so confused… He created Chris clones for some new purpose, but the purpose is just an excuse for his real attitude towards Chris.

— He continues to pursue his hobby and creates various weapons and names them after himself, paying homage to his "past life". Thanks to "Albert Wesker" he realized what he wanted out of life, and because of him he became the man he is today.

— I like the name Michael Baxter from this theory. I think that even though it's a weird nickname, it would be a great fit for Oldsker instead of his past name that was given to him by Umbrella and Spencer. He'd obviously want to stop being associated with "Wesker" because it's a dirty and disgusting project. But would he want to stop being Albert? Perhaps the name is too catchy and would expose his whole new image. So he would want to change his name completely, renouncing his past self.

— Oldsker hasn't changed, he's just become liberated and free. Perhaps there are scars on his body that have not been healed by regeneration, due to his powers becoming weaker.

— He probably knows Karl Heisenberg. It's unlikely to be any kind of close acquaintance, but they could very well turn out to be conversation partners by correspondence. Karl could be telling Oldsker about Miranda's plans, and Oldsker could be chattering unrestrainedly about Chris and his plans for him.

— Perhaps freedom would turn his head a little and he'd look for himself in completely unexpected directions. How about…writing a novel? Can this Wesker write NSFW about him and Chris? 😳

[pleasestayawayidonotlikeyou]

Can i have a sans and reader living trogether as a married couple?

Like paying rent and stuff, planing childreen and having discucions abaut some dumb stuff that the reader is mas abaut?

You can add NSFw if you want

Thank you for your time

Thank you for your request >:] no NSFW because I was too lazy to write it here 😞

Featuring: Sans

Masterlist

Stay at home husband.

It's not because he can't find a job, if anything he'd easily work at a McDonald's or a Starbucks, but 1- he would go insane with certain people and 2- Bud does NOT want to wake up at 4 am to go open the place, nah ah.

Plus, he's very good at household chores, he raised Papyrus without the assistance of his parents, so he learned to do them almost perfectly.

He'd have very dumb ""discussions"" with you, like why milk comes first than cereal or why blue looks better than violet on you.

Puts sticky notes with reminders on the bedside table when he's out.

Every time he goes to the store, always brings something you know you like, especially when you're mad at him because of something he did earlier.

Loves running his fingers through your hair and cuddling you after you had a hard day.

Sans would actually like a child of his own. He convinced himself that he'd be a good father, especially with you on his side, besides, his brother turned up pretty good, don'tcha think?

Talking about his brother, Papyrus would come check on both of you with his partner once in a while, sending texts and organizing family reunions.

Sans is real good with saving money, so it won't be a problem in the process of your pregnancy.

You'll 100% catch him writing down dad puns.

[minus-plus-zer0]

The Bakusquad Gaming Group - Ch. 2 - Appearing on His Stream

| Masterlist | The Bakusquad Gaming Group Masterlist | | Previous | Next | ♡ Genre: Fluff ♡ Pairing: Gamer!Bakugou x Gamer!Reader ♡ Tags: Crossover (MHA x multiple franchises), gaming AU, Quirkless AU, aged up

You were still reeling from your first ever collaboration event with Dynamight, one of the more recent gaming channels to hit the big leagues. After the event ended, you went to bed and rolled around from pure giddiness. It wasn't just about the increase in views and exposure that mattered to you and your own gaming channel. No, what you really cared about was him.

You couldn't really explain these odd feelings in your chest as you cuddled up with your gaming plushie, but you knew it was his damn fault. Maybe it was his handsome face, or maybe it was the way he seemingly flirted with you, but something about him drew you ever closer.

But you had never heard any rumors about him dating, so you had no idea what to expect from a guy like him. You hoped he liked you as much as you thought he did.

You knew you had to keep the ball rolling. Your viewers on your channel kept asking for more videos between you two. And Bakugou specifically said he wanted you more in his life (or at least in his career). So you had to give them more.

You checked your viewer count and other related statistics. The stream garnered increased attention for both of you, but Bakugou still had the higher follower count. Given your channels had almost entirely different content save for some occasional overlap, you didn't really know how to compare yourself to him or how to overtake him. Bakugou's fans stuck around for his sheer skill and his determination to beat any level, no matter how difficult. You didn't really feel you could compete with that, given your cozy game aesthetic.

But you had to try.

Over your sugary breakfast cereal, you mulled over whether to text Bakugou then and there. You hemmed and hawed over it for several minutes before finally sending a text.

"Morning! Did you check your stats? Both of us went up, I think."

"Yeah I noticed."

"You think that was more due to you or to me?"

"Don't even ask me that. I'd say it's more due to me, 'cause I clearly got the bigger bump."

You knew he was an arrogant guy on his videos and streams, but it still kinda hurt to hear that. You hoped you had proven yourself to him already.

He continued texting. "But you still did a great job last stream. It pisses me off. That's the first time somebody's kicked my ass that badly."

You hummed to yourself happily, doing a tiny dance in your dining chair. You knew he didn't give out those compliments that easily.

"Now that I know what you're capable of," Bakugou texted, "you better get ready when I surpass you and your channel."

You bit your lip. You knew what Bakugou was capable of. But you wanted to show him you were capable of something great too. Cozy gamers like you were looked down upon as not real gamers, and you wanted to prove everyone wrong. You just needed the confidence to know that you even could.

"I can't believe I'm hearing this from you, of all people," you texted. "But I am up to the challenge!"

"Come over to my next stream," Bakugou texted. "A fan sent me some weird anime game that's more your style than mine. We'll play the main co-op storyline and we'll show the viewers who's really the best."

Your heart swelled. He was inviting you back! He saw you as a threat!

"Yes of course I'll come over! I'll show your chat who's boss. The cozy gamers will win!"

Somehow, you landed yourself at Bakugou's apartment for the first time ever.

The window views were almost always beautiful, the garden was well-groomed, the gorgeous pool out back was ready to use, and the location was in a great spot. Your apartment wasn't bad but it certainly wasn't as good.

Of course he'd live in a place like this. And of course he could afford it. Bakugou's parents were well-known fashion designers and his own channel probably made enough income to get by. None of the other Bakusquad streamers lived like this (in fact, most streamers generally didn't).

You tried to ignore how much his mere apartment complex intimidated you. You knocked on his door, a plate of sugar cookies in tow as you fixed your adorable outfit.

Bakugou opened the door seconds later, looking sharp in his black jacket and orange shirt. You gave him the cutest tiny wave of your hand.

"Hey!" you said. "I brought cookies! It's just a thanks that I always give when people invite me over. I didn't want us getting hungry during the stream."

"Cookies, huh?"

He took a cookie and bit into it, chewing thoughtfully.

"Well? What do you think?"

"...It's good." He sounded surprised. "Text me that recipe later. Can't believe this shit." He pointed at you accusingly. "This is the second time I've felt outdone by you."

Your heart swelled. You followed him inside his apartment as he kept munching on your cookies.

"Do you really mean it? I'm so happy! Now you're seeing what I'm truly made of."

He took your plate of cookies and set it down on the kitchen counter nearby. "I already kinda knew not to underestimate ya. I've also heard you talking about baking in your videos."

"You saw my cozy lunch stream two weeks ago?" You gasped, acting flattered like you were a superstar. "Were you eating lunch with me? Were you in the chat?"

Bakugou crossed his arms and leaned against his kitchen counter. "I never talk in your chats. Your chat members are too freaking weird. I'd rather listen."

"So you're one of the lurkers," you said, walking around him all coy. "I appreciate all my viewers, even if they don't talk. But I didn't realize you were so shy."

"I'm not shy." His eyes narrowed into slits. "And quit teasing me. You probably watch my videos the same way."

You couldn't wipe that cocky expression off his face because he was right. Your mildly offended face told him that much and he just chuckled.

Bakugou showed you around the rest of his house, and you were more than eager to poke your head around every corner. The place had a brilliantly modern feel to it, leaning into darker wooden colors to give it a mature feel. There wasn't a pillow out of place on the living room couch, the dining room table had a brilliant shine, and you noticed that the kitchen counter was even still wet from cleaning.

Wait, still wet?

"Did you clean just before I got here?" you asked, dabbing your index finger upon the surface. Bakugou looked at the offending spot like he wanted to smash it and buy a new counter entirely. "You didn't have to do that for me, Bakugou!"

He stomped over to you and ushered you away from the spot. "It's only normal to clean up before guests arrive! Of course I would! Next room!"

But of course, you soon noticed more things on his extremely short tour. When you threw something away, you saw that his trash can was still filled with used paper towels and even an empty cleaning spray. His bathroom also still smelled lightly of fresh cleaning products. You didn't even have to look hard to find these clues once you realized it.

Bakugou still tried to drag you away from it. He led you to his bedroom, where his gaming setup was. You didn't really understand what he was getting so worked up for.

You stopped him before you entered his bedroom. "Bakugou, it's okay! You don't have to be so insecure about this. It's normal to do an early spring cleaning before somebody visits. Were you worried about impressing me? Don't worry, I'm super impressed!"

Your cheery face tried to convince him just as much. His more serious face examined yours.

"''Course I want to fucking impress ya," he said, leaning against his closed bedroom door. "Do you even know who you are? You're a celebrity. I've watched a ton of your damn videos. And now you're here. With me. I thought you'd feel the same pressure, since you're my fan too."

His words warmed your heart. "Of course I feel the same! I wanted you to think I was cool too. Honestly, I would've been a little heartbroken if you didn't like my cookies." You laughed, rubbing your arm awkwardly. "But I also can't believe you're intimidated by me. You don't have to worry, because I love everything that I am seeing!"

"You're always such a sap," he said. Then, he leaned closer to you. "But thanks."

Bakugou turned and opened his bedroom door, walking inside and gesturing you to follow. It was a bit of a random thought, but you really liked the look of his broad shoulders from behind. You followed him, blaming his earlier behavior for getting you to think of him like this. You couldn't space out here thinking about his body, he might notice!

And he did notice. Bakugou briefly caught you staring and raised an eyebrow before you trailed over to him in his bedroom.

"Wow, so this is where the magic happens," you said, desperately trying to distract him.

Bakugou's bed had a nice, slick black spread and his gaming setup was set a decent distance away from the area, ensuring that nobody would ever see where he slept. In fact, you've never seen that part of his room from his videos. His closet and drawers were closed, but you didn't really want to peep into them anyways. His shelves were filled to the brim with video games and some books, and there were heavy weights around the corner. Bakugou had a few choice gaming posters above his bed and a few figurines around his computer. No raunchy anime figurines were ever displayed, that was more Kaminari's and Midoriya's style.

"Done ogling?" Bakugou asked, his arms crossed. You didn't know if he was referring to his bedroom or himself, but his smug face made you not want to test him on his true meaning.

"You'd do the same if you visited my apartment," you said, shrugging like you were voice positively innocent. You both knew better.

"You really sure of that?" He moved just a bit closer.

"I know you're just as curious as me."

"Well I wouldn't have invited you over if I wasn't."

"Awww. You really just say the randomly cutest things, huh?"

He scoffed and turned his head away, but he couldn't hide his smile from that angle.

You helped him with setting up before the stream started. With the two of you working hard, you got through the setup process quicker than he would've done alone. You chatted here and there in the mean time, and eventually you caught him laughing at a few of your goofy jokes. At first he tried to hide it, but he soon stopped and you got to hear a full bark of laughter, which was rare even throughout his videos.

During the setup, you occasionally caught Bakugou staring at you. Every time, he sharply turned away and pretended to be overly invested in his computer again. He was like a little school boy around you sometimes.

Once you two finished, both of you posted on social media to alert your viewers that the stream would start soon. You both got into your seats in front of the computer and his moderators rolled into the chat. Eventually, the game started. Your shared face cam turned on and you beamed at your viewers.

"Hey guys!" you chirped. "I'm joining Dynamight today on his stream again and we're gonna be playing an old favorite of mine! It's super nice to see you all here. I hope some of you remember me from our last collab. In fact, I think I see a few familiar faces here in the chat from my own fanbase..."

"You don't gotta be that nice to them, you know," Bakugou said, leaning on one arm of his gaming chair towards you. "She may find you guys sweet and stuff, but I don't. I've seen how you guys post. You people are total dicks."

"Well, too late!" you said. "I can't take back my kindness, now can I?"

Some of his viewers remarked they were shocked to see somebody else on his face cam, let alone in his house.

"isnt that his bedroom?" said one viewer. "did they break in?"

"are you guys dating?" asked another. "also did they break in?"

"See what I fucking mean?" Bakugou said, gesturing to the chat displayed on the computer screen. He slapped the hand to his forehead and groaned.

"Come on guys," you said. "It's not like that... It's just easier to play the game when we're together like this. Local play is better than online play for this game."

But the commenters still kept going. "theyre dating! dynamight liked her social media posts before this and we have evidence!"

You highlighted that comment with Bakugou's mouse and keyboard and poked him in the shoulder. "Wait, is this one true? You've liked my posts?" You poked him repeatedly in the sides. "You're giving me social media engagement?"

Bakugou glanced at the computer screen. "Ugh. They're reading too much into everything. Ignore them and move on."

"Fine, fine," you said. "Settle down chat. We're here for the game, not to gossip. You can do that on my streams instead and next time, it won't involve my life..."

"It better not!" Bakugou cried.

You grabbed your controller and proceeded through the game's main menu. The game's intro played out before you two, something you'd seen a hundred times. You read the text out loud for the chat's sake.

The game was an anime-styled fantasy beat 'em up. You'd play co-op with Bakugou to traverse through varied fantasy lands in order to defeat a dragon that was summoning monsters all over the kingdom. The commenters described your voice as soothing, and Bakugou paid rapt attention to you as you spoke.

The character selection screen popped up. Bakugou chose to play as a barbarian, while you played as a white mage. The first level took place in a castle overrun with monsters and you two got to work on cleaning up.

You were hit with all sorts of nostalgia upon fighting the first waves of castle monsters. You recounted some of your old memories of this game to Bakugou and the chat. Bakugou was much more critical of the game than you ever were with your nostalgia goggles, but you liked hearing his perspective because it was so different from yours. Some of the viewers even agreed with him.

"These controls are really fucking unintuitive," Bakugou said, his fingers smashing rapidly on his controller. "Shit! I didn't want my stupid character to fucking do that! No wonder your kid self struggled with this game."

"It's an older game so it's not super robust," you said, while your white mage killed the castle monsters much more smoothly. "It's not so bad once you get used to it. Here, let me show you the ropes."

"I can handle it!" Bakugou said, not tearing his eyes from the screen.

"Pretty please? It'll only take a second. I promise it won't be that long."

"Tch... Fine."

You guided him through killing the castle monsters, giving him several tips and pointers until he got the hang of things. Once he got over the learning curve, he started killing things just as well as you did. You knew he'd only get better than you if you underestimated him. You cleared the first level together and proceeded to the huge town outside of the castle.

"...Guess this game isn't that dumb," Bakugou said, looking over at you. "You see how good I did there? Your advice wasn't half-bad."

"Yes, yes, I saw. You did very well!" You clapped your hands together excitedly, your gaming chair swiveling slightly because of it. "Oh it's so rare to see a game redeem itself in your eyes!"

"I never said it was redeemed," Bakugou retorted. "I'm just giving it a fucking chance, that's all."

"That's all it needs, actually."

Sure enough, Bakugou started to enjoy himself more as you continued to explore the town. He still snarked at some of the monsters' anime-inspired designs (which you reluctantly found funny, despite his mean-spiritedness) and he still raged a bit when things didn't go his way, but you were there to calm him down, killing off any monsters that were giving him trouble. You had never seen his rage die down like this on his other streams, and it was a little unnerving! You felt the need to rile him up all over again, just for fun. So you challenged him to see who could kill the most enemies, and he accepted.

The viewers enjoyed seeing you two pull off complex combos as you competed to see who could kill the most enemies level after level. The chat tried to keep tally of how many monsters you both killed per level, but it was clear you were mostly neck-and-neck. You were essentially enemies on the same team. You both cleared several levels pretty soundly with how eagerly you two steamrolled the competition.

Hours passed as you two explored new maps and defeated various mini-bosses, all the while taking a few breaks during the stream. Even though you and Bakugou fought almost the entire time, you loved spending time with him since his reactions were always funny. You always knew how to get a rise out of him.

Finally, you both traveled to the top of the mountain where the dragon rested. The dragon summoned multiple enemies to distract you, and this was your final chance to get ahead of Bakugou. For most of the game you had focused on avoiding as much damage as possible and being overly cautious, but now you attacked without regards to your health. Near the end of the battle, you were almost dead.

Once the dragon was near low health, it collapsed to the ground and both of you wailed on it repeatedly. You feared that Bakugou's barbarian would be faster than you, but you spammed your fastest attack even though it dealt the least amount of damage. Through sheer luck and button mashing, you ended up getting the final blow in. The game showed off your attack in slow motion as the dragon died.

"Chat, who won?" Bakugou said, his eyes shooting to the monitor. "Who fucking won?"

"Give them space, Bakugou," you said, holding him back from the monitor he was currently trying to terrorize. "Yelling isn't gonna make them work faster."

"Tch. You'd be surprised. Wait--WHAT?!"

You barely came out on top. Multiple chat members were able to corroborate each other's numbers. You cried out in happiness. Bakugou threw his controller down onto the table, groaning. The story's outro rolled, showing that you saved the kingdom. The credits showed the aftermath and your characters being celebrated, but Bakugou looked none too happy at this development.

"That was SO much fun," you said, kicking your feet. "I can't believe I won!" You poked Bakugou's ribs again and he simply looked away from you, shaking his head. "Oh I hope chat enjoyed our playthrough. Did you guys like the game? The plot twists were super awesome. Gosh, the story and the gameplay still hold up. Don't you agree, Bakugou?"

Bakugou still refused to look at you. "...Guess it's not that bad..."

"Ohhh?" You got up into his face, forcing him to look at your disgustingly cute smile. "That's a different answer from before! You came into this game hating it."

Bakugou frowned. "That's--ugh... Fine. It was good." You squealed. "Hey! I said it was good. I didn't say I fucking loved it to death. Don't get all cocky and smug with me just because you got me to admit that. This game's learning curve's still a bitch."

"You say that but you did soooo well once you got the hang of things, so I disagree!"

"That's only 'cause I'm me. And also 'cause you literally taught me everything 'cause you've been playing it for years. This is first and foremost a kid's game and most kids would've hated these controls." Bakugou sighed and then leaned back in his chair, looking up to think. "Anyways, the plot's cliche as fuck. The anime art style's hit or miss. The animation could be better. And the game poses this shit as a happy fucking ending even though the townspeople are all probably dead 'cause we couldn't save them in time."

You couldn't believe what you were hearing. Even some of the chat members were agreeing.

"...But in the credits," you said, "we see everyone happy and alive!"

"I don't buy it. That's only the survivors."

"You're just seeing what you want to see," you said, patting him on the head to accentuate your point.

He sharply turned to you, defensive and afraid of your soft, loving pets. You could almost hear the chat members gossiping about it now.

"Oh, and another thing!" you said. "Did you know they're coming up with a sequel?"

"WHAT?!" Bakugou sat straight up. "No. We're NOT playing it! Stream's over."

"But thanks so much to all of you for watching! Thank you! Love you!" You sent Bakugou's face cam all of your kisses, to which he observed without any sense of joy. "And don't forget to follow me on social media!"

"Don't add that last part!"

Bakugou stopped the stream. You put your hands on your hips. "Don't end the stream on a grumpy note! Bet you're just jealous that the camera got more love from me than you."

"WHAT?!" Bakugou looked like he could pop a vein. You laughed lightly in the face of his predicament as he muttered complaints and protests under his breath.

It was a daring proposal that you had to suggest. But secretly, you hoped you weren't wrong!

Bakugou went through his typical stream outro routine, such as posting on social media and downloading the video file for later. Once you two finally shut everything off, you relaxed back in Bakugou's extra gaming chair, gawking at the silly boy while he towered above.

"I really had a fun time today," you said, tugging on his black jacket. "Thanks again for inviting me over. I know I give you grief, but I really mean it."

"You're coming back over again," Bakugou said, pointing at you. "...Right? Couldn't tell who the chat loved more, me or you."

"I think they loved us both," you said, lightly spinning in his extra gaming chair. "They said they've 'never seen someone take verbal pot shots at you and get away with it.'"

"You didn't get away with it," he said, stopping your spinning with one hand on your chair and then coming up to you, face-to-face. "I almost won, remember? Despite this being your game."

"Oh, yeah..." You hung your head.

Bakugou looked concerned. "...The hell's wrong?"

"...I'm just a little bummed at myself for not doing as well as I'd thought. Maybe I'm a bit rusty, but I really wanted to be better than you at this game since I've spent so many years on this. Especially since this is gonna be saved on your channel forever."

He patted you on the head and you looked up at him with your pretty doe-eyes.

"Quit worrying," Bakugou said. "You did good. In fact, you're real fucking tough, just like I expected. But do better next time, I wanna see you at your strongest."

You gave him a small smile. "Of course."

He chuckled. "Didn't expect you to get all insecure on me. You're really worrying for nothing, again. I've wanted to meet ya for a long time and I got to see your skills firsthand. I'm not gonna complain about those results."

You felt silly upon realizing that much, and maybe that was a good thing.

"I'm gonna upload this to YouTube later," Bakugou said, sitting back in his own seat. "And--well... I need a good thumbnail. Do you wanna be in it? If... if that's okay with you."

His face looked so innocent. The biggest, brightest, dorkiest grin appeared on your face. He immediately grew apprehensive at the mere sight of such a thing.

"You are sooooooo shy sometimes!" you said, giving a fully belly laugh. Bakugou looked terribly distraught, but you snuffed that feeling out of him real quick with your next response. "And yes, of course I'd love to be on your thumbnail. The viewers will be so happy to see you've made a new friend! But you have to be there with me!"

"FUCKING SERIOUSLY?!"

With your approval, Bakugou would place both of your beaming smiles on the thumbnail of his video when he uploaded it later. The Bakusquad better not tease him for this, because you wanted all the opportunities to yourself.

After the stream ended, Bakugou invited you out to eat ramen with him at a nearby restaurant. You agreed, not wanting the night to end. You both rode on his orange motorcycle, your arms tight around his waist as you clung to his back the entire ride. When you arrived at the restaurant, he removed his helmet, his head facing away from you with pink dusting his cheeks. He appeared effortlessly beautiful under the street lamp glow. Perhaps because of this, he wouldn't face you.

"C'mon, let's go," he said, and he headed into the restaurant with his helmet in tow. You followed after with your own.

You sat down in a booth and surprisingly, Bakugou sat down next to you instead of across the table. You got your menus and the waiter walked away.

Bakugou briefly stood to dump both your helmets on the seat across from you two. Once he sat back down, he addressed you directly. "I'm paying this time. So choose whatever ya want."

"What?!" You put the menu down like it offended you. "No, no, no! You invited me over to your stream, the least I could do is pay you back!"

"You being on my stream benefits both of us, dummy. There's nothing to pay back. Plus, you brought me cookies earlier, so I've gotta pay you back for that."

"Bakugou, that's really not--"

"Pick something!" Bakugou handed you back your menu. "It's not that big of a deal. You know I'm loaded."

That arrogant grin of his always knew how to get under your skin, one way or another.

"Thank you," you said, as you held your menu. "You really are too sweet to me sometimes."

"Well we're friends now, ain't we?"

You both examined the various dishes on the menu, with Bakugou already moving on to check the drinks. You tried to look for the cheapest yet yummiest items, but you mentally shrunk back at the sight of how spicy some of these dishes could get.

"I didn't bring you here for nothing," Bakugou said, seemingly reading your mind. He peered over your shoulder, checking out your menu. "I brought ya because I wanted ya to try some of these hotter dishes. It'd be a waste if you didn't try 'em. You're always vlogging about going to those cute damn cafes. Bet they don't got nothing like this."

"I don't know..." You frowned. "I don't want to end a good day with a stomach ache... And it'd waste your money too..."

"There's normal versions if you really can't handle it," Bakugou said, setting his menu down on the table. "But you should still try something new. This is one of my favorite places to hit post-streams and sometimes one last good kick is what you need right after a big day."

Your gut reaction was to avoid foods that hurt you like the plague. But with Bakugou right beside you eyeing the strongest foods on the menu, you felt the urge to outdo yourself today. You didn't want to seem weak in front of him.

When the waiter came back over, you ordered the lowest level of spice for your ramen. You were feeling risky today.

Bakugou, however, wasn't impressed.

"You chose 'mild'?!" he snapped. Some of the other patrons peered over to look.

"Yes!" you said, clapping your hands together. I'm trying something new, just as you asked! Aren't you proud?"

Bakugou looked confused, but he could tell you weren't even kidding this time. "But that's not even their best shit..."

"Bakugou, it's okay! It looked delicious."

"What if ya don't like it? I don't want you thinking I got crap taste if you don't like it."

You shrugged. "I think we just have different tastes in food, Bakugou. There's nothing wrong with that. Plus, since I'm eating with your money I'll be sure to enjoy every bite! So chin up, okay?"

Over your meals, you two chatted about the various games you've played recently. Bakugou was surprised to learn that you played a lot of the shooters he covered on his channel. You two had more in common than you would've ever previously believed.

You really loved talking to him. This was the first time you managed to truly befriend someone on your level, someone who could understand your lifestyle. You didn't have the same gaming circle of friends Bakugou had with the Bakusquad, and even then none of the Bakusquad even scratched his number of followers. You two were soon becoming in a league of your own, higher than the rest but not quite at the top yet.

Just then, a thought occurred to you.

"Why did you start streaming?" you asked. "You don't really seem like the 'nerdy' type. And if I didn't know you any better I would've thought you would've gotten a career related to sports. I just don't expect tough guy gym rats like you to be full-time gamers."

"Tough guy, huh?" Bakugou cocked his head at you.

"Just answer the question!" you said, before loading your mouth full of food.

"Fine. It's 'cause I love kicking ass in-game and I wanna show everyone undeniable proof that I'm the best. I'm sick of watching a bunch of nobodies acting like they're somebody onscreen. It's a real pain watching other people play when they don't know what they're doing."

You slurped your food. "So... spite is what fuels you."

"Kinda," Bakugou said, bringing food to his mouth. "And you?"

"Well, I can't say I agree with your mindset," you said, setting your chopsticks down. He raised an eyebrow at you. "But I also didn't expect much else. I'm the opposite of you, I think! I wanted to start up this platform because I love sharing my experience with games with other people, and just being there with them. After building up such a big fanbase, I know I have to use my platform for good and to spread a positive message, instead of abusing my power and getting into drama and scandals like other celebrities."

"So you're saying that I'm like one of those celebrities," Bakugou asked, resting his hand on his fist.

"Nope!" you chirped. "You're nothing like them! You get into arguments, sure. But you're not evil! You've just got an ego, but you've also got the skills to back your ego up. That's so cool. And you're passionate and more honest than most, which I really admire. Like, you're mostly the same person on and offscreen, except you might be even sweeter in private... I tease you about it sometimes, but I really appreciate how nice you've been to me."

"Y-yeah, of course," Bakugou said, his face a little too serious. "You may still not get it, but... I look up to ya. So it's insane hearing you say that to my face. I actually modeled my channel after yours early on... You're basically my fucking hero."

"What?! Really?"

"Yeah. I must've found your channel first before you ever found me."

"Well you should've reached out then! You're my hero too!"

"Hell no! You would've rejected me with the numbers you had at the time." Bakugou relaxed against his seat, looking into the distance wistfully at the thought. "I always thought you would've said no." Then he turned to you. "But seeing how things turned out, I'm glad you reached out first. 'Cause that's how we got to this point now."

"...I'm glad I reached out too."

(This chapter was supposed to come out days ago, but as it turns out it's actually like 20 pages long and super hard to edit. Still, I'm glad I took my time because I'm really more satisfied with these results than I would have been if I didn't edit!)

[gloomuri671]

Under the Influence

Sae Itoshi x Reader

Warning: drinking, make out session, suggestive, sa, grinding

A/N: Oh sevens, have mercy on me. Do not tell my brothers.

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Dear Diary,

Something I learned while living with my grandparents, after my parents divorced, was to always reject overbearing gifts three times before accepting. That's gives the human brain enough time to really consider their options - their choices. At least with my grandparents. It's always stuck with me even until now.

Now, I can hold my liquor quite well. Better than most people some people might say.. At least I hold it better than Sae Itoshi.

Not long ago, Sae is officially eighteen years old. Now we're here celebrating his birthday ina club against his wishes. His team dragged him here to celebrate, so he dragged me with him. Sae is a more respectful man, he doesn't drink, and doesn't even glance at drugs. He studies, practices soccer, and goes to the gym. "A model student," some would call him. Bringing him here was just another excuse for them to drink.. Plus it's a twenty percent discount. It's a pretty good deal!

Perhaps I shouldn't have, but I couldn't help it, dolled myself a bit more than usual. Every girl deserves and should feel pretty. Just a tough up here and there. It's my best friend's birthday too! A part of me hopes he'd call me pretty too. He hasn't said it, but... Oh forget it.

"Lil' mama, over here!"

It goes to show, I was attracting the wrong men, sadly. I just walked in and was immediately approached by a group of middle aged men. "I'm here with my friends, sir," I said. He grabbed my waist and let be too the bar. "Oh, I'm sure they'd understand," he waved off. I looked back at the table where Sae and his teammates were waiting for me. They didn't see me yet, but I hoped they'd catch wind and save me. I'm definitely in the wrong shoes for this.

"I'll have a whiskey," he ordered. He looked at me and nodded to the bartender, "Go ahead, doll." You looked over the menu and chose a pricey little drink while giving the bartender a look. He nodded and stared shaking up your drink. "You know how to pick 'em," the man next to you said, "I'm a more old fashioned man myself."

Oh diary, I was so scared. When our drinks came, I took a sip of mine and sighed in relief when I realized the bartender mixed more juice than alcohol, little to none - just enough to calm me down. "What brings you here?" The bartender asked. One by one the men around me answered his question, but by the look on his face, he wanted my answer the most. "My best friend turns eighteen today," I said, "Him and his team are over there waiting for me." They recognized their country's junior soccer team from the counter. "Oh, so go for men in high places?" Another man next to me pondered. He touched my knee and I jolted slightly. I was afraid. "No need to be so eager, sweetheart," he chuckled. I gave a silent plea for the man behind the counter, whom nodded his head, and disappeared from my sight. What was he doing?

"I own one of the more infitely successful companies in Spain," he told me, "I could shower you in diamonds. Jewels that you stare at while window shopping." His slid up to my thigh slowly, stopping at the helm of my dress. The man on my other side played with the stap of my dress. "Would you be my little sugar baby, doll?" What the hell am I supposed to do?! Somebody! I looked around the club and not one person looked sober enough to help me. Anyone! I looked towards Sae's table, my table, and everyone at that table looked completely out of it.

Get me out of here!

"Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to stop touching my lady."

Huh?

Stopping my search for any help, Sae and Jordan stood a few steps from me. Jordan, the only other Real Madrid junior player that I could call "my friend." "You her boy toy, shrimp?" Jordan scrunched up his nose, but Saw didn't even flinch. "Yeah, so hand her over," he said nonchalantly, "I don't like you holding her up." Oh. My. God! With the way Jordan was trying not to snicker, I knew my face was red.

It wasn't long before one of the men threw a punch at Jordan. Now a browl broke out between Real Madrid and the middle aged men that flocked around me. "You want another drink, ma'am?" The bartender asked me. I looked at him and scanned over the menu before ordering a drink of my choice. "On the house, sweetie," he told me. "Thank you." I sipped in my drink slowly while the brawl was happening. Sooner or later, the staff would have to break up the fight, but for now.. I'll just watch.

When the fight died down, those men were kicked out and the team stayed for more drinks. This is how I found out that Saw is a lightweight. Best Mid Fielder in the world and he can't hold his alcohol? I'm a little buzzed too, but.. Since when did he become so.. Clingy?

The party died down and I, the designated driver, took everyone home with the van we rented out for road trip games. Oh, if coach ever found out what we were using it for... He'd wonder why we didn't bring him! Oh, but if Sae is a lightweight then coach is the complete opposite of that. The tab would've been doubled.

Pulling up to the school, me and Sae switched cars so that I found drop him off then head straight home. One thing is for sure, I'm never letting Sae drink again. "You can put the seat back, Sae," I said. He complied, but now he was staring at me. "Can you hold my hand?" He asked me. I glanced at him then focused back on the road. Wordlessly, I gently held his hand and relaxed feeling his warm hands - slightly warmer because of the alcohol.

One hand on the wheel, I parallel parked my car in front of his drive way. Turning off my engine, I said, "Okay, we're here." I looked to my little passenger prince and into those dangerously teal eyes. Was he watching me this whole time? "Hard not to," he said, "Your pretty when you concentrate on something. Did I ever tell you that?" Did I say that out loud? Shit. He fixed up his chair to sit up right. Never once did he look away from me though.

He let go of my hand and used it to trace my jaw instead. I shivered under his feather like touch. Eye contact is a dangerous thing with Sae: It's like he was Jafar and could hypnotize me into submission - not too far off actually. Still... He's never looked at me this way before.

Looking at him more closely, I'm reminded that my best friend is drunk and has no idea what he's doing. I cleared my throat and gently pushed his hand down. "You're drunk, Sae," I told him. As much as this hurts, rejecting his touch, I couldn't let him do this to himself - to me.

I open my car door and get out as fast as I could. Once I close the door, I take deep breaths to calm myself down. "What the hell was that?" I whispered. This wouldn't be good for my conscience. Whatever it was - whatever I was feeling - whatever he was feeling.. "I'm blaming it on the booze," I muttered.

I took the keys and unlocked his house door, only now realizing that the birthday boy isn't with me. I'm reminded that my passenger prince can't open his door on the inside and came back. I looked through the window to see him nodding off slightly and giggled. I opened up the door and peeked my head in. "Sorry about that," I said, "C'mon, I'll help you to bed."

I reached out my hand and yelped when I was suddenly pulling into the car. Landing face first into his chest, the door was pulled shut, and the recliner pushed back. I gasped and scrambled to get up. "Where you going?" Saw asked. There was something different about his tone. I froze and looked down at him. His legs were open as far apart as the car would let him. "Come here," he beckoned, patting his lap expectingly. I gulped, but complied.

"Sae, bestie, you're drunk," I told him. He nodded and nuzzled his head into my neck. I'm sure he can feel my pulse, the shiver I felt when I felt his breath on my neck, the goosebumps I felt when his arms trapped me to him. "I know," he assured.

One

"It's me, Sae," I told him, "It's me, Y/n, your best friend." His breath became shakey and he kissed the pulse on my neck. "I know, Y/n," he answered back.

Two

"You're gonna regret this in the morning," I warned him. He shook his head and trailed kisses up my neck, to my cheek and kissed the tip of my nose. "I won't," he said. My breath shook, before I wrapped my arms around his neck.

Three

I let it escape me like broken dam that's been slowly coming down after so long. I finally kiss him. I could taste the Hennessey on his tongue, just as sure he could taste the Rum off of mine. His lips were soft, everything I imagined. "Fuck, Y/n," he groaned. Oh, shit.

My last bit of restraint left me and mounted his lap like I would a horse. I kissed him with ever bit of desire I held for him. I opened my eyes, but his were closed. I sighed in disappointment. I would've loved to look into his eyes right now too. Closing them again, I instead focused on the hands that started to roam my body. I returned the favor.

Reluctantly, I broke the kiss to come up for air. I would've loved to drown in him longer, but I didn't want to overwhelm him. No, not when I finally get to kiss him after all this time. I precked his lips, then his cheek, his jaw, all the way down to his collar bone. His breath was heavy, and I reveled in ever second. Searching his neck for that one spot, once he let out a moan, I attacked it desperately. "Make that sound again," I whispered. He called for me among his curses. Oh, fuck I'm a goner.

When his hands made their way to my ass, I knew it was over for me. Giving a squeeze, my breath shallowed and I suppressed a moan. Noticing this, he did it again until he was playing with it as if it was play doh. My dress hiked up a bit, but I could care less. Especially when the tormentor of my dreams is right under me.

What other sounds could he make? His lustful gaze filled me with determination. I fully sat down on his growing buldge and circled my hips slightly. His breath hitched, a loud moan came from him, eyes blown wide. "There's those pretty eyes," I muttered. I grinded down on him, my hand cupping his face as if he was fine China. "So handsome," I whispered. Perhaps he heard me the first time, because now be fought to keep his eyes open. Never once looking away from me. Oh if only he knew what he did to me. Or maybe he did?

One hand on my ass and the other on my hip, he helped guide my hips on him, grinding up to meet me half way too. A shakey moan leaves my lips before I could stop it. Hes kissing me again, only this time, he's looking me in the eyes while doing so. A man could offer me millions of diamonds, but all I'd care about are the ones watching me right now. Looking at me with a hunger I'd only ever fantasize about. Such precious jewels and right now they were all mine. "All yours," he whispered to me. "Oh my god." I said that out loud too!? "All fucking yours," he said again, planting kisses on my neck. There would most likely be marks in the morning, what a hassle. "Always been," he whispered in my ear, grinding us closer together. I moaned at the sensation.

Maybe the Vodka hit me harder than I thought. Because now I'm most likely soaked down there. Sae would never say that to any girl who showed interest. I've seen it may times before: The love struck fan confesses her love, but Sae doesn't even spare them a glance. Now I'm imagining he'd declare himself all for myself? But I wish that was so. So I'll believe he ment to say that for now.

"F-fuck, right there," I whimpered. My hips feverishly grinding down where his buldge hit the spot just right. Over and over and over again. "S-Sae," I whimpered. He finally left my neck alone, helping me reach my high, kissing my lips like he would in my dreams. "C'mon, babe," he told me, "私のために兼. (Watashi no tame ni ken.)" Oh, f-u-uck. That's it.

Riding out the high of the moment, Sae let out a loud groan. Looking down at his lap, I gasped when I saw the mess we made. I saw the creamy white slowly trying to escape from his pants. I let out a shakey moan and tried to get off him. He held me in place, though.

"Thank you," he whispered into my hair, "I love you." My heart skipped a beat. "I love you," I said without thinking. It was only when his arms tightened around me did I realize what I had done. "Oh no," I thought out loud, "Oh no no no no no." I got up, rolled the window down, reached my hand out and opened the door from the outside. Was he fucking serious.

Getting out of the car, I fixed my dress and helped Sae out of the car. He looked confused and I wouldn't blame him: I was too. Locking my car, I helped into his house and to his room.

I took off his shoes and changed him out of his dirty sweaty clothes. He'll thank me later. Since it's his first time drinking, he'll know the horrors of waking up and smelling like shit, but at least he'll be in fresh clothes and not in the ones that already probably smell like shit and would get worse the longer he waits til the morning. My breath hitched when I saw his cum soaked underwear. It didn't help that Sae looked like he was studying my reactions.

Once he closed his eyes I finally let myself sober up and pace his room. "Why the fuck did you do that!? Bad, Y/n. Don't you know how much he trusts you?" I quietly scolded myself, "I'm such a bitch. I couldn't even keep my hands to myself! Taking advantage of your crush when he's drunk is the dumbest and shitiest thing I could've ever done." I ran my fingers through my hair and looked down at Sae, who was sleeping peacefully in his bed.

"Look at you," I whispered, "Sleeping peacefully while I'm left to ponder what the fuck I'm supposed to do now." I looked at the blanket over him and fixed it better so that he could feel more comfortable. I looked at the AC and turned it down a bit, making it colder, so that I would be less sweaty in the morning. "Why must you torture me so much? Don't you know how much I love you, soccer genius?" I laughed slightly, "Pfft- "I love you" my ass... Wish you were sober though." I sighed softly. Took his shoes and left the room.

He'd forget it all in the morning.

I'm never letting him drink again. It's bad for my heart.

Oh my.. What have I done? Anyways, that's progress.. Maybe. Now this is getting interesting.

What do you think will happen?

-Levi

[cdragons]

You lived on the Cut, but you knew your situation was far better than most of your friends.

While you were by no means a Kook, your family had enough money to be comfortable. Sure, it wasn't a beach mansion with 10 bedrooms, 8 baths, and a decked-out pool - but it was more than enough.

Your parents had full-time jobs that paid the bills, put food on the table, and gave you a roof over your head. Most importantly, they could comfortably afford Costco executive memberships for both.

At first, they were skeptical about paying so much for a membership fee, but when they saw the annual 2% rewards on qualified Costco purchases - they were sold.

The only Costco on the island was in Kitty Hawk, which was about a 15-minute drive without traffic. Because of your parents' schedules, the only times they had time were on the weekends. They always took you with them, of course. Weekends were the best part of the week, not because you got out of school but because you got to go to Costco.

Your parents made it so fun, too! Costco was your own little amusement park - your parents let you ride in the shopping cart as you waved to fellow shoppers, your family tried each and every sample cart dispersed throughout the store, and you got to have a giant slice of pizza and soda from the food court!

Not only that, but the people at the exit would always draw a balloon on the receipt after they checked the cart!

The moment you were able to get your driver's license, you wanted to get a membership, too. You paid for it with the money you saved up from years of babysitting, working at the Kook Country Club, and even helping out with the Wreck.

You loved the store so much. Even when the Pogues would ask you to join them on the weekends, you told them you couldn't go because you had to go shopping with your parents.

Finally, JJ (your amazingly sweet, sexy, funny, wonderful boyfriend who you had a crush on since the sixth grade) wanted to find out what was so dang special about this "eXCluSivE" warehouse store that it meant he had to be kept away from his (out-of-his-league, gorgeous, smart, sunshine smiles) girl (who he's been in love with since the third grade).

Luckily, your dad had a job that was gonna take up the entire weekend. Your mom and you could have gone, but your dad was the heavy lifter of the family - you two needed him for the real heavy stuff.

That's where JJ comes in!

You and JJ were lying on the hammock the afternoon before the trip when you asked him if he could join you and your mom to Costco because they needed help loading stuff into the house afterward.

"It's nothing too crazy, but mom's been getting a lot of night shifts lately, and I don't want her to strain herself more than she already has to. I'll treat you to whatever you want at the food court!" What kind of heartless monster would JJ have to be to refuse? God, he wanted to smush your cheeks between his palms and kiss every part of your face from then till the rapture. Besides, your folks have been so good to him since he was a tot. Which is pretty much exactly what he did. "Don't worry, pretty mama; papa J'll get it done."

...Listen, he still thinks it's weird your parents fork over so much money just to shop at this one store when there's a perfectly good Bobby Heyward on the Cut. Buuuuut, he'll go along with anything you do if it means he gets to see that 1000-megawatt smile you shine his way.

The next day, you and your mom pick JJ from the Chateau, and JJ's never seen you so excited, ever. You're practically hopping like a little bunny, and he would've pulled you onto his lap if your mom wasn't there.

"I can't wait for you to see it! You're going to love it! Everyone's so nice, and the food there is so cheap, you'll never want to leave." JJ couldn't help but affectionately roll his eyes at your excitement. Anyone else, he'd think they'd lost their marbles or hit their joint too much - but for you, it was nothing short of adorable. "Baby," he kissed your cheek. "S'just a store - ain't gonna be Disney."

...He was wrong...he was sooooo wrong. JJ's jaw fucking dropped at the sight of the massive warehouse since your mom pulled into the parking lot, all the way to when they entered the store when she pulled out her card for security to check.

You had to physically shut his mouth out of fear he'd eat a bug.

JJ was starin' at everything like he was at Disney, and he really might as well have been. He begged your mom if it was alright if they could walk in every aisle to see it all. Your mom raised a brow before seeing the absolutely adoring expression you had on your boyfriend.

How could you help yourself? He looked so cute, all excited!

She agreed, and immediately, JJ went to the electronics sections and plopped down at the TV with the biggest screen and the best graphics he'd ever seen. From there, he found the section in the beginning where the coupon and sale items were located and immediately gunned for the discount toothpaste and razors.

"Baby! They give you a pack of 30 here! "...I don't think your peach fuzz counts. And do you even brush your teeth every day?" "Uh, 'scuse me - I will for these prices. And don't think I don't know how many of these bad boys you n' Kie go through each month. Your cooch will never be growing out of its jungle with these bad boys."

The food and household sections are his own damn paradise. He tries every sample and goes back for more, and the workers treat him like he's a freaking golden retriever puppy.

"Babe, babe, babe - this place gives you two loaves for ONE SET! ONE SET! LOOK AT THE CAKES AND MUFFINS! Oh shi- we need to bring Pope. He'll lose his rocks for this."

Sees the prices for the Kirkland products and immediately insists that anything else is "boUgIE."

"5 BUCKS FOR A PACK OF 40?!" "It's 3.99 if you're a member."

Immediately goes and loads two packs into the cart. You warn him not to let Kie know that you and your family voluntarily bought plastic water bottles - he does not care.

"(Y/N), she can crucify me upside down n' shit; we're not missing out on this deal."

He sees the $5 rotisserie chickens and physically stops the cart. You slam into his back and barely have enough time to grab onto his shirt to stop him from getting another cart and filling it up with chickens.

"We don't need so many chickens!" "THINK OF ALL THE STUFF YOU CAN MAKE!" "We'll get one for you for now and come back another time!" "But-" "I'll even let you sit in the cart!"

Finally, you and your mom got everything from the shopping list (along with a few other things upon JJ's request), and you three could finally head out for the checkout.

Just when JJ thought he couldn't love Costco more, he finally saw his heaven...the Costco food court.

$2 slices of pizza...$1.50 for a hot dog, and a free refill soda combo...$3 smoothies...$2 soft serves...$9.95 18-INCH PEPPERONI PIZZAS????

...Fuck the Wreck, this was officially the best restaurant on the whole fucking island.

Your mom gives the green light for you and him to get a table, and JJ practically jumps on the first empty table (there were still grease stains and ketchup spills from the previous seaters) and sets his stuff down. His giant 6' body is leaning over smaller frame as he watches you press the buttons on the order kiosk.

"Two hot dogs...one pepperoni - no, make that two - no, three - fuck it, get the whole pie...holy shit, they got churros?!"

After you pay and grab the receipt, you two wait by the window for your food as JJ is buzzing with the biggest smile you've seen on him since you two got together. A couple of onlookers are staring at the two of you - some with skeptical expressions, others warmly chuckling at his excitement.

When your number is called, the mountain of food you ordered requires only the most delicate and careful balancing acts for you two to get back to the table where your mom was. Thankfully, she cleaned the table and got the napkins before you all sat down. She volunteered to fill the sodas - Coke for you and her, Mountain Dew for JJ.

The noises he makes while eating are borderline pornographic and make everyone around your immediate vicinity uncomfortable. Parents, grandmas, kids, and employees are giving your table the BIGGEST side eyes; meanwhile, you're just eatin' your pizza and sippin' your soda with the straightest poker face. Occasionally, you turn around and stare at your blonde menace with the most lovestruck expression in the history of ever, and you're just so happy to be the one to give him this experience.

While he's on the john, you snuck away and bought the prettiest bouquet you found in your price range. Afterward, you went back to the food court kiosk and sorted a chocolate soft-serve cup just for him! The look of pure, unadulterated adoration on his face when you gave him the bouquet alone made you wanna cry tears of joy, and when you showed him the ice cream cup - he immediately picked you up and spun you in a circle with everyone watching.

Your mom was 100% recording the whole thing and sent it to your dad.

At the exit, you asked if the lady could draw a balloon. She looked over, confused before she saw your golden retriever puppy of a boyfriend and even drew a smiley face on the balloon. It goes without saying JJ keeps the receipt in his wallet.

Literally the happiest person on the Cut, he's skippin' everywhere, all day. Nothing can bring him down, not even the fucking high prices Mike Carerra charges for one fucking drink at the Wreck.

Keeps the receipt so he can brag about how much your family saved to the other Pogues. John B and Pope do not believe him until they scroll through all dozens of pictures in JJ's camera roll of every glorious thing he saw at Costco.

...They beg you to include them next time.

This is for all the JJ girlies who want some fluff! Let me know in the comments what you think, and reblog if you enjoyed reading it and want more!

Tagging: @ethereal-athalia, @dipperscavern, @instructionsnotincluded, @darlingchronicles, @ruerecs, @excbambi , @jjsfavgirl , @bre99 , @redhead1180, @markno

[tizeline]

Bro that angst potential ur separated au is keeping me up at night. You've said since Mikey would be a powerhouse due to training at such an early age, would it be safe to assume that Leo & raph are too? They've been mastering their ninpo 4 years? And if yes then dam they must be tanks. Must be a force to be reckoned with the bros and drax being all chaotic. Did they start to train so early bcuz drax only saw them as soldiers n stuff? Drax sure must've softened over the years huh guess he couldn't handle the cute lil menaces lol. Is Donnie aware of his own ninpo yet? I'm imagining him going up against the others with all his cool tech and then they whip out this anime magic ass superpower out of nowhere. Like meeting others like u after years of thinking u were the only one must be at least baffling right, now it turns out magic is real too. And he's gonna have it too(Not to mention the bro bomb waiting to drop on his head). Would his insecurities rise after witnessing all that?

Sorry I just absolutely LOVE ur au friend, i have a ton of questions but ill hold it 4 ltr. I'm really excited to see where you take it :)) -🌾

Oh man, Anon, glad to see you so excited haha!

Just a heads up, I'm still figuring out the story of the AU, so I don't know all the specifics yet, but here are some of my thoughts. And also, this became a bit of a ramble, that's what you get when you send long asks lol /lh

The way I'm thinking how Draxum is gonna be like in this AU is that he didn't view himself as the turtles' father initially, not really because he only viewed them as mere tools for him to use, he always saw them as people with induviduality. But rather, he hadn't really connected the dots that creating children + raising said children = parenthood, which led to Draxum like a year after mutating the turtles having the sudden realization one day of "OH SHIT AM I A DAD!?" and having a mini crisis because of that.

Anyway, while I don't think Draxum is the perfect dad in this AU by any means, he does genuinely care about his kids. (If Mikey managed to win Draxum over in canon after having spent a whole season fighting each other, there's no way he'd care about Mikey any less in a scenario where they've been on the same side since day one like they have in this AU.) He started training the turles from an early age and they are expected to help him with his Definitely Not Evil World Domination Plan, but they are still allowed free time and hobbies and such. And aside from some "ugh I don't wanna train right now I wanna play vidya gaemes" occasionally, the turtles never really opposed the idea of them becoming Draxums super soldiers. Kids are really easily influenced and if your parent keeps telling you that you are the heroes who are gonna save the world from evil, chances are you're gonna latch on to that narrative without question. But after meeting Donnie and April, who knows, it might be what finally starts making the other turtles question if their cause really is as just as they think :) That being said, I still have to figure out how Draxum would react exactly to his sons starting to oppose his world view.

Then their abilities! I also have to do more reasearch into exactly how the magic system works in RoTMNT cuz uhhh it's a bit unclear sometimes. Anyway, ninpo is specifically the magic used by the Hamato clan, and considering Raph, Leo and Mikey weren't raised as Hamato I don't think they would have access to that specific type of magic (though I still think they'd be be able to possibly unlock it later down the line) They would still have access to yokai magic, and of course the mystic weapons that they stole in the show would just have been given to them in AU by Draxum. And oh yeah, the brothers are powerful. To be fair, Donnie was able to keep up with Draxum pretty well in the pilot episode, so he wouldn't be COMPLETELY outmatched by his brothers. His tech is powerful enough that he'd be able to put up a decent fight even if he lacks mystic powers himself but..... three against one? Yeah, Donnie isn't winning any time soon. The biggest advantage he'd have would honestly be that his brothers wouldn't really WANT to fight him cuz they'd be all like "Long Lost Brother™??? 😭😭😭 Please come home Long Lost Brother™ we love you!!! 😭😭😭"

And I think Splinter would have kept both of their origins secret initially like he did in the show, so Donnie would't have any ninpo either, but I also think Donnie would still learn about the whole Lou Jitsu and Genetically Modified Super Soldier thing earlier than in canon. And god, yeah, learning about all of that would definietly be A Lot, which is why I still need time to figure out Donnie's exact reaction sorry Anon you're gonna have to be patient XD

[altocat]

Ok I gotta rant. I’m proud of big Seph actually. (Before the horrors obvs)

In FS1 we met the Miniroth, who was naturally kinda open about his problems with his team?? He was socially awkward and looking for help, wanting to ask about his mother and everything. He even was against being seen as inhuman. It HURT HIS FEELINGS and he made that clear! Lil dude was trying.

But in episode 2, you can’t get this kid to even talk half the time. He’s like a machine, not admitting anything is wrong, steeling himself up, failing but trying to explain away his obvious mother issues, but he’s just cold and rigid to protect himself and avoid attachment. We know that’ll change but like…it feels wrong even for him because he’s actually more just like that trauma-dumping meme lmao. He DOES brush things off with smiles sure, but he still is trying to connect and be fucking human. You can see the effort being made.

FS2 Miniroth would NOT be this friendly, nor would he spend two hours searching for that lost trooper. He wouldn’t be chatty or probably even dare to mention home + his parents. He’d prioritize the mission first, keep dehumanizing himself, etc.

Honestly, I think CC/Rebirth Nibelheim Seph was doing his best before he walked into that damn reactor. He was just completely vulnerable and alone when the crisis hit him because of his friends being dead/gone/traitor. (I mean…he was probably holding out hope for Genesis before the reactor too!) But yeah. I’m sad. He was closer to his FS1 one self on Rhadore as an adult. Probably even a better version. Ugh.

All of Sephiroth's actions Pre-Nibelheim spell out that he really did want to be a good person. He was doing the best he could with the incredibly meager tools he'd been given. After decades of Shinra molding him, traumatizing him, exploiting him, and abusing him, he STILL managed to turn into a relatively kind and compassionate adult. He was naturally good. He WANTED to be good. Somewhere beneath the coldness, the aloofness, the killing on Shinra's orders, the REAL Sephiroth was gentle. Empathetic. They could not take that from him. They had to BREAK him first.

I'm extremely eager to see Sephiroth's transformation in EP 2, assuming that's where they're going with the plot. I want to see how this edgy, hostile version of Sephiroth eventually thaws into the person we saw in Crisis Core, and the protective, compassionate soldier we saw in the EP 1 flashforward. Does Angeal save him? Does he save himself? What pulls him from the brink? What brings him back from the edge, though the REAL edge is only another decade away? It's going to be sooo cathartic.

[menacing-menace-rat]

Can I get platonic yandere headcanons for all of the founding members of the Justice League?

I definitely can! Also sorry it took me so long to get to this. I'm still learning about how the inbox stuff works.

I'm going to have to make this in parts because it's alot to look at with all 7 members. This is part 1 of ?

I'm gonna use the founding members from the animated universe. More members and I love Martian Manhunter. If you were looking for the Snyder universe let me know and I'll edit the post and add Cyborg for you. 🤗

Warnings: kidnapping, gaslighting, obsessive behavior, general yandere creep stuff.

Platonic yandere justice league members part 1

Superman

You were a scientist at LexCorp

After some questionable experiments you knew you had to blow the whistle

So you went to the Daily Planet.

That's where it all stared.

So smart with a kind heart, how could he not protect you?

He's deluded himself completely.

He can't see how he can be the villain in anyone's story let alone yours.

He's very aware of his own strength thankfully.

You are more of a risk to yourself than he is. At least physically 👀

You'd be moved to a farmhouse almost right away.

When it comes to kidnapping you, he has no self control, it's near instant.

he knows how fragile humans are and he refuses to take any chances.

No matter how much you pleaded with him it was no use.

He was the only one who could help you and stop Lex.

This man has a scary amount of patience. No amount of hitting or screaming is going to set him off.

He will subconsciously prolong any solution that would make Lex and his people less of a threat to you.

He'd insist on sharing a bed. If he was anyone else you'd be worried he would try something.

If he wanted that kind of thing from you, you knew he could just make you.

So you were pretty sure whatever this was it was at least a platonic infatuation.

At night he'd hold you so tight it was difficult to move.

A physical reminder of what you already felt inside, trapped.

There was no escaping that farm. Anywhere in the city he could hear you.

He'd hear the front door open or your panting as you tried to run for the nearest road.

He wouldn't allow any kind of phones or computers in the house.

Why would he? Need help? He'll be there faster than any cop. You are lonely? That's fine he'd love to have hour long talks about anything you want.

Batman

Your best bet is to play along for years maybe. How ever long it takes for him to maybe let you make a grocery run alone.

He found you on the streets. Maybe it was your sad eyes or your dirty face but he knew he had to take you in.

He'd tell himself he could help you learn to fight. That you'd make a great Robin.

Deep down he knew he'd never let you fight in any way.

He's not like Superman. He knows how much he cares for you is unhealthy. He knows it's wrong to take you in and effectively trap you in a huge manor but what else can he do?

He is a world class manipulator. He also has far less patience then Superman.

Too many escape attempts and he's going to make a plan.

He'd go as far as to allow you to "escape". Only to orchestrate some horrible traumatic event so he can find you and save you all over again.

Depending on how strong willed you were the worst it would be.

It was twisted and horrible but he almost craved reassuring you.

He loved your tears so long as they weren't for a real reason.

Bruce kept a tight lid on his emotions. You'd never see him lose it. He'd never show he was upset with you.

Despite this being a very unconventional child/parent relationship his go to punishment is normally grounding and lost of privileges.

You'd be home schooled of course.

He isn't all that hands on unsurprisingly.

He'd ask one of the other kids to keep en eye on you or even another justice league members.

Asking them for help wouldn't work.

The kids are on board with Bruce. Even if they weren't what could they do?

As for the other JL members he'd tell them you were mentally ill and confused.

He'd get his colleagues/friends admiration for being so selfless by raising a sick child and you'd just look crazy.

Bruce is not known for his affection but he does try.

If you are crying or screaming he might try and comfort you with a hug or by rubbing your back.

He's not the best at comforting words either but his little acts of kindness are where he shines

He'd do his best to make most of your days as structured and predictable as possible.

You'd be kept in the best health imaginable. whether you liked it or not.

Anything you can ask for he'd give you, so long as you don't ask for freedom.

He even makes time to tuck you in every night no matter your age.

If he has time he might even read to you.

You probably are never getting free of him and his kids but your best bet would be utilize the uncontrollable.

Batman is a planner. He likes to be able to predict things.

Try and wait till something goes majorly wrong.

All of Arkhams prisoners being released or an alien invasion are your only chances of slipping out of that place. You'd only get one shot though.

Diana isn't crazy right off the bat.

Wonder Woman

(This one might be the only non gender neutral one.)

You were an anthropologist given the rare opportunity to study the amazonians from the island of Themyscira.

She is cool under pressure and isn't easily impressed.

After so long of staying there she'd start to feel like you were her sister.

But once she's invested in you there is no going back.

She would follow you back to whatever city you called home.

She isn't shy about her sisterly love for you. There would be no mind games with her.

She respects you too much for that.

She is so direct about it she would likely just tell you, you were going to go back to the island with her and be with her forever.

Depending on your reaction towards her directness she may not even make you.

She might be okay with you just visiting. For a while at least.

She's confident and self assured.

If you liked being around her as much as she likes being around you things would be easy.

If not life was going to be hard and potentially painful.

Rejecting her affection and forthcomingness will break her heart.

She would blame herself and work to be better.

Unfortunately being better to her means giving you even less space.

She'd make you come back with her.

An island full of tall strong women all who listen to Diana's will.

You are not escaping.

She is near impossible to trick twice if you have already tried to get away from her.

That being said it wouldn't be all that bad.

She would be painfully gentle with you. So long as you just listen.

You are her little sister after all.

She differs from Kent and Bruce in a big way.

She would train you, she is pragmatic and understands one day she may not be there to protect you.

Long and rigorous training sessions would be the norm for a while.

On Themiscyra you'd have much more freedoms. You would even be able to walk around alone if you showed you can handle it.

Your happiness is her second priority after your safety.

She'd being you anything you wanted from your part of the world.

She would like for you to participate in amazonian traditions and customs but she'd never make you. Even if she wants to sometimes

She'd relish in watching you acclimate to her world.

She would insist her sisters treat you with the love and respect she feels you deserve.

Your only hope of escape would be to somehow get off the island and disappear.

Nothing sort of complete disappearance would work. If she ever caught you again you wouldn't be leaving that island for a second time.

More to come hopefully soon. There will be 2 or 3 parts in total not sure yet. Hope you enjoyed!